On Recognition and the Outsider

Dilettante:

All my life, I’ve been outside.

Bullied in school. Ignored at university for lacking “connections.” Looked down on abroad—because I was better.

Inherit nothing. Respected by no one. Even in my own country, I’m an exile.

Rational:

Recognition is rationed to the familiar. The outsider threatens what they cannot digest.

Dilettante:

But I don’t ask to be celebrated. Just acknowledged.

Is it so much to want someone to say: “Yes, you were here, and you were different, and that mattered”?

Rational:

Difference is tolerated only when it flatters. When it disturbs, it is silenced.

Dilettante:

I tried Germany. Italy. The Netherlands. I was still “the other.”

And if I did something better, it was worse.

How dare the outsider outshine the native?

Rational:

You became a mirror too honest to look at.

That’s why they turned away.

Dilettante:

Even at home, the gatekeepers ignore me.

I am not “noble” enough.

My family doubts me. My culture resents me. My peers forget me.

Rational:

You’ve become your own witness.

That is both your curse—and your freedom.

Dilettante:

But is that justice? Is the world just a stage where the talented play to an empty theatre?

Rational:

Sometimes.

But the echo still remembers. And so do I.