Okay, “my people,” “mambo vipi?” Hope “mko fiti!” Today, let’s dive into something a bit deep, but “tutaichambua kama njugu.” Ever met someone, “msee flani,” who seems, well, a bit like a “chameleon”? Super charming, agrees with everything, “lakini” you just can’t quite pinpoint who they really are? “Ebu,” let’s talk about people who might be missing a solid sense of self.
It’s a funny thing, “hii life.” You can meet someone who, on the surface, “ako tu sawa” – they look good, they talk smart, maybe they even have a “poa” job. But “ndani kwa ndani,” they’re walking around feeling like a question mark. We’re talking about folks who are seriously unsure of who they are, what they truly want, or even who to trust. “Ni kama hawana” anchor “kwa hii life.”
These “watu,” bless their hearts, aren’t asking themselves, ‘What do I like?’ Instead, it’s more like, ‘What am I supposed to like so people think I’m cool?’ Not ‘What’s my take on this?’ but ‘What’s the “correct” opinion here?’ Not even ‘What makes me laugh?’ but perhaps ‘When should I laugh to fit in?’ If you observe them carefully, “ukiwacheki kwa makini,” you might notice their views change faster than Nairobi weather. One minute they love “Afro-fusion,” the next it’s “country music,” then “oh, actually, I’m into classical now!” It’s like they are calling out to the world, “Ni kama wanapiga simu hivi: ‘Nisaidie! Nifanye nini? Niwe nani?'”
This isn’t them being “fake” on purpose, “manze.” It’s often a sign of something deeper. So, let’s get into the “why” and then think about how we can connect with such individuals with a bit more understanding.
“Shida Ilianzia Wapi?” The Childhood Roots
These “poor souls,” as the wise folks say, often come from very specific kinds of childhoods. “Imagine hivi:” when they were small children, their environment probably wasn’t one where their unique little personality was a big deal to their caregivers. Maybe mum or dad, “mama ama baba,” were too caught up in their own “maisha,” their own “stress mob,” to really tune into this new human they’d brought into the world.
For a child to grow a strong sense of self, they need their parents to, at least sometimes, put their own stuff aside, get down to the child’s level, and genuinely wonder: “Huyu mtoto wangu ni nani haswa? Anapenda nini? Anachukia nini? Ana story gani anataka kuniambia?”
But if the caregivers were too “fragile” or self-absorbed, they couldn’t really connect with the child’s inner world. And if no one tunes into you when you’re small, you’ll struggle to tune into yourself later on. We only figure out what we think and feel if someone, in those early days, is patient enough to help us discover it. If they don’t shout us down with a “Don’t be ridiculous!” when we try to share an idea, or insist that their way is the only “highway.”
So, the “self-less” child (meaning lacking a self, not unselfish!) probably had to deal with a parent who had their own fixed agenda. The messages were clear: “Hizi ndio kitabu utapenda! Hivi ndio utakuwa mtoto mzuri – u-shine kwa sports ama kwa class!” Later, it might be “You must be a banker/doctor/lawyer,” all without checking if that’s what the child’s heart truly desired. The lesson learned? To survive, I must comply. My real self has to go into hiding. The price of existing? Your true identity. “Ni noma, eh?”
The Charming Chameleon: “Anabadilika Kama Kinyonga”
Now, here’s the tricky part: people missing a sense of self can be incredibly charming. “Yaani, wako na adabu!” Their politeness can be “next level.” Why? Because they’ve become experts at figuring out what you like and reflecting it right back at you. It’s like they have “social radar ya nguvu.”
They’re not just pretending for a few minutes to be nice. They genuinely dive into your world, your views, and for a while, they lose themselves there. You feel so understood, so seen! “Unahisi, ‘Wow, huyu msee anani-get!'” They become the perfect mirror.
But Wait, There’s Drama! The Hidden Dangers
This charm can be deceiving, “my friend.” Because nobody just throws away their true self without some serious “inner beef” building up. There’s usually a whole heap of unexpressed anger and dissatisfaction bubbling under that smooth surface. The “shida” is, this anger rarely comes out in a straightforward way. They never learned how to say “sipendi hii kitu” or “hapo umenikosea” clearly and calmly.
So, the first time you hear there’s a problem? “Inakuja kama tsunami!” It’s usually when things have gotten completely out of hand.
Trouble in Paradise: Romance with a “Self-less” Soul
This is where things can get really “complicated kama life ya Pendo.” If you fall in love with one of these captivating, shape-shifting people, “mwanzo ni utamu tu.” They want to know all your tastes. The books you like are suddenly their favourites. The places you want to go, the food you love – “anapenda zote!”
You feel like you’ve hit the jackpot! “Unajihisi special sana.” It’s easy to just soak it all in and not ask too many questions about why they’re so into your world and seem to have none of their own.
Then, “pwaaa!” Out of nowhere, the script flips. Maybe your partner gets a new job, new friends, or starts hanging with a crowd they think is “more cooler.” Their adoration for you doesn’t just fade; it can turn into actual disdain. Those things they used to admire about you, “ile vitu walikuwa wanapenda juu yako, sasa ni shida.” You, who were once “the one,” suddenly become the source of all their problems.
They might hit you with lines like, “You don’t really know me…” (Well, duh, they didn’t either!) or “You expect me to be perfect…” (When really, they were trying to be the perfect reflection of your imagined ideal). Or the classic: “You’re controlling me!”
When they say “You’re controlling me,” what they often mean deep down is something like: “Aki, sijijui! Niliwacha unichague, na sasa sielewi nifanye nini!” Or even deeper: “Sijui tofauti ya kupendwa na ku-controliwa, juu mzazi wangu alifanya ya pili badala ya ya kwanza.”
They know, somewhere inside, that their true self got squashed, but they forget it wasn’t you who did the squashing. They blame you for “stifling” them. And just like that, “wanakudrop kama gunia ya viazi.” The irony? You might have actually been really good for them. They just didn’t know themselves well enough to trust their own gut feeling or to build a relationship on two whole selves.
Building Bridges: “Tunaweza Connect Aje Sasa?”
So, “nini solution” if you care about someone like this? It’s not about trying to “fix” them, “coz wewe si fundi wa roho.” The source of this wisdom suggests the best thing is to show them you’re different from those who stifled them before.
You’re not there to dump another set of opinions or expectations on them. Don’t always push for them to agree with you. Instead, get genuinely curious. Who is this person underneath all the layers they’ve built up? The aim is to do something pretty rare and special: to know them authentically, “kumjua yeye kihalisi.”
This means:
- Listen more than you talk: Pay attention to the small things, the hesitations. What are they not saying? “Skiza zaidi ya kuongea.”
- Ask good, open questions: Instead of “Do you like this movie?”, try “What did you think of that movie? What stood out for you?” Or simply, “Una-feel aje kuhusu hii?”
- Appreciate their tentative expressions: If they express a tiny, genuine preference, even if it’s “weird,” acknowledge it. “Oh, that’s interesting! Tell me more.” “Appreciate ile kidogo wanaonyesha.”
- Be patient: Finding their true self after years of hiding it? “Hiyo si job ya siku moja.” “Kua mpole.” There will be ups and downs.
- Celebrate Their Uniqueness: When they do show their true colours, even in small ways, let them know it’s okay, it’s good, it’s them.
It’s about creating a safe space where their real self can take a peek outside, “bila uoga.”
The Journey to “Kujijua”: Hope for Healing
Finding a lost sense of self is a journey, “si unajua?” It’s not like flipping a switch. But there’s always hope. With understanding relationships, and maybe even professional help like therapy (which is “poa kabisa,” no shame!), people can start to uncover that hidden self.
It’s about learning to hear that quiet inner voice again. Figuring out what they genuinely like, what their values are. Learning to say “no” sometimes, and realizing the world doesn’t end. It’s about grieving the self that was lost and slowly, bravely, letting the true one emerge. “Pole pole ndio mwendo.”
Last Word: Look Beyond the “Shining Surface”
Understanding people who are missing a sense of self asks us to be a bit like detectives of the heart. To look beyond the charming smile or the easy agreement and wonder, “Who is really in there?” It reminds us that outward appearances can be deceiving, “zinaweza kudanganya.”
The pain of not knowing who you are is real, often born from childhoods where there wasn’t enough space to just be. If you’re connecting with someone on this journey, or if you see a bit of yourself in this story, remember that the most powerful “dawa” is often genuine curiosity and a safe space to explore. It’s about offering the rare gift of wanting to know someone truly, “na roho safi” – all their quirky, emerging, beautifully imperfect realness. And who knows, “my friend,” in helping someone else find themselves, we often get a clearer picture of our own true north too.
