I Am Eve
February 5, 2024
Writer: Eve Collon
Editor: Chava Makman
We are all familiar with the little figures that float above our shoulders. But what happens when we start believing the malicious devil rather than the altruistic angel?
In the depths of my darkest days, I found myself identifying with descriptors that drastically weighed me down. I lost track of my individuality. I lost touch with the traits that made me unique. I lost appreciation for my charismatic self. Instead of waking up in the morning as Eve, I woke up in the morning as different characters that found ways to hijack my well-being. I woke up as Anxious. I woke up as Sad. I woke up as Hopeless. When listening to the devil on my shoulder instead of the angel, I lost sight of the beauty that makes me stand out.
Subconsciously associating myself with the invasive thoughts that tore through my mind was a slow but degradative tactic. In my harsh experience with this habit, I didn’t realize the trap that I was falling into until my name had already seemingly changed from Eve to Anxious. In one particular conversation with my therapist, I was led to realize that the words anxiety, sadness, or hopelessness were not written across my forehead. These complex feelings were not my identity; rather, they served as temporary storm clouds that were preceded and followed by a gorgeous sunny sky.
I’ll be the first to admit that recognizing this habit is easier said than done. However, once recognition is achieved, redirection is made possible. For myself, redirection appears as a change of dialogue. Instead of allowing the harsh internal dialogue of “I am anxious,” I have a kinder conversation with myself which falls along the lines of “I am feeling a sense of anxiety today, but because I am Eve, I will endure this uncomfortable sensation and return to stability in the near future.” Take it from me, no matter how seemingly far it is, the power to halt negative self-talk is always within reach.
Upon my recognition and redirection of this toxic habit, I noticed that I naturally began to romanticize my environment more frequently. The glass of my life transitioned from half empty to half full. More specifically, instead of dwelling on the brown slush that lingered on the sidewalk toward the end of winter, I began to appreciate the first sprouts of grass that made themselves visible. Instead of feeling stressed subsequent to missing an alarm, I would value the extra rest that my body received. When the degrading patterns dissipated, my confidence heightened and the meaning behind my name absorbed magnitude. I saw myself from a larger perspective and grew proud of the hidden internal accomplishments that I had made.
Fighting for myself even when my own brain seemed to be working against me was tiring, but it has taught me so many implicit lessons that have a way of making every day better than the last. I have learned to respect every aspect of myself, to be proud of every achievement that I make, and to be my own fan. At the end of the day, I always have been–and always will be–Eve.
Image: Jules Bonanno
