“Why am I complicated?” It’s a question that echoes in the quiet moments when I feel misunderstood or when I struggle to understand myself. It’s a reflection of the tangled web of emotions, thoughts, and experiences that make up who I am. Sometimes, I wish I could be simpler, more straightforward—easier to understand for myself and others. But the truth is, being complicated isn’t a flaw. It’s a sign of depth, of being human, and of the richness of life that I carry within me.

There are times when I feel like I’m a puzzle with too many pieces, some of which don’t seem to fit together neatly. My emotions can be intense and conflicting; my thoughts can be scattered and layered. I might feel one thing and say another, or want something deeply but push it away out of fear or uncertainty. This complexity can make relationships challenging, can lead to misunderstandings, and can sometimes make me feel like I’m too much—for others and even for myself.

But why am I complicated? Part of it comes from my experiences. Life isn’t simple, and neither am I. Every experience I’ve had, every joy, every heartbreak, every success, and every failure, has left its mark on me. These layers of experiences shape how I see the world, how I react to situations, and how I interact with others. The more I’ve lived, the more layers I’ve accumulated, and with them, a greater sense of complexity.

Another part of my complexity comes from the depth of my emotions. I feel things deeply, whether it’s love, fear, anger, or sadness. These emotions don’t exist in isolation; they mix and merge, creating a spectrum of feelings that can be hard to decipher. Sometimes, I’m afraid to fully express what I’m feeling, worried that it might be too much or too overwhelming. But these deep emotions are a testament to my capacity to care, to connect, and to live fully.

My thoughts contribute to this complexity as well. I tend to overanalyze, to think deeply about every situation, and to consider all possible outcomes. This can lead to indecision, anxiety, and a sense of being stuck. But it also means that I’m thoughtful, that I care about making the right choices, and that I’m committed to understanding the world and my place in it. My mind is constantly working, processing, and trying to make sense of everything, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

Sometimes, being complicated feels like a burden. It can be exhausting to carry all these layers, to navigate the intricacies of my thoughts and emotions, and to try to explain myself to others. I might worry that people will see me as difficult or hard to understand, that they’ll walk away because they can’t handle my complexity. But those who truly care about me, who see me for who I am, will appreciate the depth that comes with being complicated. They’ll see the richness of my experiences, the depth of my emotions, and the thoughtfulness of my mind as strengths, not weaknesses.

There’s also a certain beauty in being complicated. It means that I’m multi-faceted, that I have a unique perspective on life, and that I’m capable of seeing and experiencing the world in ways that others might not. My complexity is what makes me interesting, what gives me depth and substance. It’s what allows me to connect with others on a deeper level, to empathize with their struggles, and to appreciate the nuances of life.

Instead of seeing my complexity as something to fix or simplify, I’m learning to embrace it. I’m learning to see it as a part of who I am, as a reflection of the life I’ve lived and the person I’m becoming. I’m realizing that it’s okay to be complicated, that it’s okay to have layers and to not always make sense, even to myself. This complexity is what makes me human, what makes me real.

“Why am I complicated?” Because I’ve lived, I’ve loved, I’ve hurt, and I’ve grown. Because I’m trying to navigate a world that isn’t always straightforward, with emotions and thoughts that are as complex as the world itself. My complexity is a sign of my depth, my humanity, and my strength. It’s not something to be ashamed of, but something to embrace.

In the end, being complicated means being alive. It means that I’m not just coasting through life, but actively engaging with it, feeling it, and thinking about it. It means that I’m a work in progress, constantly evolving and learning. And that’s something to be proud of. So, I’ll stop apologizing for being complicated, and start celebrating the richness that comes with it. After all, it’s what makes me, me.

-With Love, H.