In all honesty, every time I am asked about my favorite thing about myself, the first thing that comes to mind is how much I loathe myself. It is easier to find the things I hate and eliminate them one by one, to finally find something good to say “Oh, this is what I love the most about me.”

I am a person full of contradictions; my personality is directed by changes. Tell me your story, I will be a good listener. Weep all you want, I feel you with all my heart. I will wait until you stop sobbing, I’ll cancel any appointment if I must. Ask me to calm you down, I will tell you all the sweet things in earnest. Ask me for a solution, be prepared to cry again because I will probably give the bitter truth you do not want to hear.

And tell me your bullshit; I can smell the reek from far away and will not give you any time of the day.

I could be the most timid person you ever met, hidden in the corner behind the backs of others in a room full of people. Or you can find me in the center, making an oration, grabbing people’s attention eloquently yet brashly, and you will nod along, ready to take united action.

I’ll be the person who vocally speaks against injustice, but also a people-pleaser who can barely say no—an easy target to oppress. I can look cool, outgoing, and laidback. But no, I am not worthy of your admiration because the next moment you see me, I’ll be the most overthinking person you’ve ever known.

I cannot swallow meat easily and I am not even a vegan. I just can’t bear imagining all those creatures who understand love, raised and slaughtered to fulfill the greed of mankind. I can suddenly cry seeing a person sick in bed, elders with hunchbacks picking up garbage on the street, or cats and dogs who were once pets being abandoned.

But I can always trample people who cross me. Or treat them like they never existed from the start.

I am a total homebody; don’t even ask me to leave my desk. I hate people in general, and I’ll get sulky each time I have to go out, and the next thing you know, I’ll be the person who greets, talks with, and listens to everyone.

I cannot stand the heat. I cannot stand the cold. I don’t like traveling, being in nature, or even moving, but once you drag me, I’ll make sure we visit every single place worth seeing, and I’ll enjoy the sunshine on the beach or mountain while reading books or writing poems.

People will either hate me or love me. There’s no in-between.

And if you meet people I knew in different stages of my life, they will tell you different stories. “She was hardworking and diligent/always lazed around, barely attended any class.” “She’s very outgoing/unapproachable.” “She’s a rebellious subordinate/a good leader.” “She’s nice/rude.” “She’s confident/pessimistic.” “She’s very strict/a rule breaker.” “She’s polite/brutal.”

Oh, I guess that is it. The thing I love about myself is the constant clashes. The freedom to feel what I feel, the contradictions that make me a flawed human. Flawed, but humane.