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Entry tags:
on insecurity
Kurt Hummel is a boy who has never had to question who he is. From the tender age of three, he requested for his birthday a pair of sensible heels. From the start of the dot-com boom and the emergence of online shopping, Kurt opened himself fully to the world of fashion and show tunes, stocking up on both in the basement of his house and learning to express himself through a mix of dance and song. He is the boy who doesn't play football without his music, who isn't afraid to incorporate the masculine and feminine in all walks of his life, and he isn't afraid of defending his position with every last breath in him, because he should never be made to feel ashamed of who he is.
But there is a large gap between being proud and being secure, and the latter is something that's been tremulous for Kurt all his life. He is, after all, a boy who's suffered through years of being told that he is the 'other,' the boy who's capable of making a young man so uneasy that he doesn't feel comfortable changing in the same room, the boy whose father bought a vehicle for him in exchange for no longer wearing sweaters that ended at the knee. He's grown up around friends with devout beliefs, and he's smart enough to know that he rests outside those comfortable lines and borders, that no matter how progressive some may be in accepting him, he is neither the norm nor the ideal. And at times, he's been willing to suppress all that he is just in the hopes of fitting in more, or even from the fear that there is simply no other way to connect and identify with some of the people who mean the most to him in the world. No matter how brightly Kurt may shine, he is at the end of the day a teenager highly conscious of all that goes on around him.
And as he very succintly puts it: When you're different, when you're special, sometimes you have to get used to being alone.
Cue the visit to Dalton Academy, and the entrance of Blaine Anderson into his life. For the first time that he can ever remember, there sits in front of him a group of people who accept him wholly for who he is, who don't see the need to dole out extra sympathy or concern, but instead see Kurt's sexuality as one of any number of variables in a person, no need for special treatment, no need to fall under a label. The experience is staggering, quickly drawing tears out of Kurt, shaky in the knowledge that there can be such a place where he is welcomed and appreciated, but beyond that, where for the first time, it isn't a struggle to be accepted. There is no need to prove himself a sparkling personality or someone desirable for wit or talent. He can breathe easy, knowing that for all that he's capable of speaking out and loud and proud, it isn't necessary.
It changes even more when he has his first kiss.
Because he's a romantic at heart, and these things matter. He yearns to be able to walk hand-in-hand with his partner down the hall, yearns to take his first date where he wants it, yearns to be able to go out with who he wants to prom and not be afraid of being targeted by the general populace. And now, for the first time, he has someone else who shares in this experience, who is able to look past labels and limitations and see Kurt, and someone who loves every part of him outside even of that context. Blaine sees Kurt, he's the first person who's never shrunk away from that part of Kurt, who hasn't levied judgment, and to have that for the first time draws out the greatest of Kurt's confidence, enough to help encourage him to try out for the lead role in a play, or to apply for one of the most prestigous musical theater programs in the nation. Kurt may have had courage all along, but it was Blaine who helped Kurt draw it out in full, and who put a smile on Kurt's face all the while.
Until suddenly, it starts to fade.
Kurt isn't a fool. All relationships have their hiccups — simply watching the New Directions stumble around is more than enough proof of that. He's watched Rachel, Finn, Quinn, and Puck cycle around in every permutation possible, he's watched his peers cheat on one another, lie to each other. Blaine and Kurt are nothing like that, and so he knows that there must be something logical to explain the fact that Blaine's been distant, that he doesn't tug Kurt under the bleachers or into the janitor's closet for kisses anymore. It must be a phase. Or perhaps, he optimistically thinks to himself, perhaps this is just where things go next, once that initial fire burns out a little, and leaves behind the solid foundation that married couples enjoy. But as the days roll on, it becomes a little more difficult to keep his chin up, because if there's anything that Blaine's spoiled him for this past year, it's validation. Supportive every step of the way, convinced of Kurt's chances of getting into NYADA, and now suddenly not wanting to talk about any of it. Something isn't right. For all of Kurt's quiet entreaties — and he does try to be quiet, because he knows he has a tendency to be loud and excited and he just wanted to share with everyone that extensive knowledge of Whitney Houston — Blaine just seems more and more disinterested. So what's happening?
Does Blaine not realize that in this, in chasing after his dreams, Kurt is neither enjoying nor wants to walk this path without Blaine by his side? Again, he finds himself needing to find his own footing, and while he's sure that he must be capable of it, he stumbles a little more often. Shines a little dimmer. Scrambles online for a plausible explanation to set his worries to rest.
And then someone else sees him, just walking about in a music store. It's been months since he's had his appearance complimented like that, it's been months since someone's looked at him with such an excited shine in their eyes, and indeed it's been years since anyone other than Blaine has liked Kurt of their own volition and at just a glance. (Because, as little as Kurt cares for Sebastian, he never did quite get over being told that he has a terrible case of the 'gay face.') All of this comes with a flood of relief, and the ache that's been building in his heart is temporarily abated, his shoulders pulling back with that old confidence again, and when Chandler asks for Kurt's number, he hesitates for only that second. Because he loves Blaine, and Blaine loves him, and he needs this not to jeopardize that, because he hasn't given up on Blaine, not by a mile.
But texts can be innocent, right? After all, Blaine's shared that with Sebastian before. It's just a little bolstering of self-esteem. No, Chandler doesn't mean anything compared to Blaine, but maybe it's just that Chandler understands better in the moment, and they're both excited for New York, and they both know that they need all the applause they can get, and it's just cute to once again feel desirable after a month of only getting kisses when they've been marked on the calendar. (Not the sexiest experience in the world.)
Soon, it gets out of hand. One text turns into three, three turns into a dozen, but it's okay, it's okay, because they're innocent and they're not doing anything, it's just exchanging compliments, and Blaine hasn't been around enough to notice anyway. Telling him would just be more stress to a relationship that's already a bit strained as of late; there's no point. Don't rock the boat. Just hold on for that audition, just take the positive from wherever it can be found, security from Blaine and that shock of pride from Chandler. It's fine, and it's really okay.
Until Blaine finds out. That look in Blaine's eyes is enough to twist Kurt's chest unpleasantly, and Blaine's asking about Chandler, and even though he hasn't really done anything wrong, Kurt still reacts because some part of him deep down has never felt entirely comfortable with this, and certainly never under the scrutiny of a second pair of eyes. But, but there are reasons why he's had to turn to this, Kurt thinks. Blaine hasn't hardly given him a second glance as of late unless necessary or scheduled, and how's that supposed to make Kurt feel, and what is so wrong if Kurt's getting a bit of that from another source while Blaine's going through whatever he's going through? It's entirely innocent, and Kurt just wishes that this didn't have to be such a big deal, and he's flushing and frantic because something in his world is being set off balance and it's just not right, he's done nothing to deserve this. Right?
Blaine can't understand, after all. Blaine has been loved and lauded and adored and hasn't had to sit on the outside as much as Kurt ever has. Blaine's the guy that everyone wants, whether as lead in their musical, or even as a makeout partner. He's the guy everyone falls for, be it meerkats smelling of Craigslist or even Kurt's own best friend, and he must not know how much it means for Kurt to be complimented for once. Is it true that he used to get solos all the time? No, hardly, but that's not the point. There's some part of Kurt that's been standing under Blaine's shadow ever since the two of them met, even when the two of them return to Kurt's own home territory, but what made it okay for so many months was the fact that even when everyone else turned a blind eye, Blaine was there. And he hasn't been. And Blaine couldn't possibly know how that feels, or why Kurt needs this so much. How it feels to wonder if Blaine still finds Kurt special, or beautiful, or the most interesting kid in the whole state. But it's okay, he repeats, insists, because they still love each other and at the end of the day, that will see them through, right?
Blaine leaves, though. And left in his wake, it's all that Kurt can do to hold that blanket around himself, because it's all he has left. Some vague and nebulous type of conviction. He doesn't get it. He doesn't get what's wrong.
The problem continues to stare him directly in the face the next day. In a move that's completely uncharacteristic of him, Blaine airs their problems for all to see, declares in front of their mutual friends that Kurt cheated, and to see everyone stare at him in such bewilderment and unease only makes Kurt dig in his heels more. He's been fighting all his life, and the only time he can keep his head above water is when he claws his way there. With his friends passing judgment already, it feels like everything is slipping, feels like Blaine's walking out that door and that everyone else is supporting him, and Kurt wonders exactly when it was that he became so alone.
He needs to address the problem. He needs to fight for Blaine, because he's not ready for this yet, but never before has he seen that kind of look in Blaine's eyes and he doesn't understand, and those lyrics besides, it's the kind of thing to say to someone you don't plan on looking back to. All that Kurt sees his Blaine's retreating figure, and to even begin and tackle that... Kurt doesn't know how.
Curling into himself, he turns to a triage of all of his belongings, marking what stays and what goes, almost sectioning off for himself the things he still believes in (not just in the room, but believes in being a strong part of himself), and Blaine's picture is one that's getting left behind in the trip. Because he's not sure where it'll be in the next month, let alone by the time he ships himself off to New York. The relationship's on the rocks, and it's simply easier to put it in a place where nothing will change. Denial is a river that runs deep.
But Burt comes in, and as a parent ought to, provides perspective. These days are the only ones they'll ever have before everything changes, and maybe it's time to be more demonstrative of that, to be able to say 'I don't want you to go' without fearing the repercussion, because the only thing worse would be to never get sentimental at all before it's too late. The talk isn't about Blaine, Kurt knows, but it's enough that he starts to think. It's far past the hour of waiting for Blaine to notice, it's far past the hour of looking anywhere else, because there is someone nearby who Kurt still loves and doesn't want to leave, and if he has to express that through song for Blaine to really get it, he'll do that. He'll shout it from the rooftops, he'll lay everything bare, no matter who's watching, but he'll say it now that Blaine can't leave, because some part of Kurt, however shy and hidden and not even fully acknowledged by himself, doesn't know what he'd do without Blaine. He has nothing without him.
And, however shaky it is and however much Kurt still doesn't understand how things have progressed to this point, if the song isn't enough for them to kiss and make up, he'll try anything. Turns to Miss Pillsbury for advice because couples' counseling is what everyone does when they're like this, right? They're just about the only couple who hasn't sat in those chairs yet anyway. So they go to her office, because if Kurt can't understand what's going on with Blaine and if Blaine can't see from Kurt's point of view, maybe they can find a third person who does. But god, the words start and it's just all the tiny things, little pet peeves like snapping his fingers at wait staff and bronzer and if this is enough for Blaine to be pulling away from Kurt then he doesn't know what he'll do, and it's just so stupid and why even—
—oh.
It's not really about that at all, is it?
Because Blaine finally says it out loud, the true reason for all the distance, and it's something that Kurt never thought of before. That it isn't that Blaine doesn't believe in Kurt, or in his dreams, and it's not even that Blaine's disinterested, but instead that he's terrified of the distance. Kurt's never even considered it before this moment, because in his mind it was a given that they'd keep the relationship going strong, that they would talk to each other every single day and work up crazy phone bills and that Kurt would cut his shopping budget to the quick to make sure Blaine could regularly visit. But now Blaine's confessed, and it strikes all of the defenses down that Kurt's built up, every single excuse he's tried to make for himself and his behavior, every cling to validation when he's never needed to look further than Blaine himself. He realizes that he, too, needs to be more considerate of Blaine's feelings, and if he needs to let Blaine know every single day of their lives that he's never leaving and needs to repeat that he is never saying goodbye to him, then Kurt will do that, because there's no one else he loves more and nothing that he won't do to try to make sure they find their forever.
But there is a large gap between being proud and being secure, and the latter is something that's been tremulous for Kurt all his life. He is, after all, a boy who's suffered through years of being told that he is the 'other,' the boy who's capable of making a young man so uneasy that he doesn't feel comfortable changing in the same room, the boy whose father bought a vehicle for him in exchange for no longer wearing sweaters that ended at the knee. He's grown up around friends with devout beliefs, and he's smart enough to know that he rests outside those comfortable lines and borders, that no matter how progressive some may be in accepting him, he is neither the norm nor the ideal. And at times, he's been willing to suppress all that he is just in the hopes of fitting in more, or even from the fear that there is simply no other way to connect and identify with some of the people who mean the most to him in the world. No matter how brightly Kurt may shine, he is at the end of the day a teenager highly conscious of all that goes on around him.
And as he very succintly puts it: When you're different, when you're special, sometimes you have to get used to being alone.
Cue the visit to Dalton Academy, and the entrance of Blaine Anderson into his life. For the first time that he can ever remember, there sits in front of him a group of people who accept him wholly for who he is, who don't see the need to dole out extra sympathy or concern, but instead see Kurt's sexuality as one of any number of variables in a person, no need for special treatment, no need to fall under a label. The experience is staggering, quickly drawing tears out of Kurt, shaky in the knowledge that there can be such a place where he is welcomed and appreciated, but beyond that, where for the first time, it isn't a struggle to be accepted. There is no need to prove himself a sparkling personality or someone desirable for wit or talent. He can breathe easy, knowing that for all that he's capable of speaking out and loud and proud, it isn't necessary.
It changes even more when he has his first kiss.
Because he's a romantic at heart, and these things matter. He yearns to be able to walk hand-in-hand with his partner down the hall, yearns to take his first date where he wants it, yearns to be able to go out with who he wants to prom and not be afraid of being targeted by the general populace. And now, for the first time, he has someone else who shares in this experience, who is able to look past labels and limitations and see Kurt, and someone who loves every part of him outside even of that context. Blaine sees Kurt, he's the first person who's never shrunk away from that part of Kurt, who hasn't levied judgment, and to have that for the first time draws out the greatest of Kurt's confidence, enough to help encourage him to try out for the lead role in a play, or to apply for one of the most prestigous musical theater programs in the nation. Kurt may have had courage all along, but it was Blaine who helped Kurt draw it out in full, and who put a smile on Kurt's face all the while.
Until suddenly, it starts to fade.
Kurt isn't a fool. All relationships have their hiccups — simply watching the New Directions stumble around is more than enough proof of that. He's watched Rachel, Finn, Quinn, and Puck cycle around in every permutation possible, he's watched his peers cheat on one another, lie to each other. Blaine and Kurt are nothing like that, and so he knows that there must be something logical to explain the fact that Blaine's been distant, that he doesn't tug Kurt under the bleachers or into the janitor's closet for kisses anymore. It must be a phase. Or perhaps, he optimistically thinks to himself, perhaps this is just where things go next, once that initial fire burns out a little, and leaves behind the solid foundation that married couples enjoy. But as the days roll on, it becomes a little more difficult to keep his chin up, because if there's anything that Blaine's spoiled him for this past year, it's validation. Supportive every step of the way, convinced of Kurt's chances of getting into NYADA, and now suddenly not wanting to talk about any of it. Something isn't right. For all of Kurt's quiet entreaties — and he does try to be quiet, because he knows he has a tendency to be loud and excited and he just wanted to share with everyone that extensive knowledge of Whitney Houston — Blaine just seems more and more disinterested. So what's happening?
Does Blaine not realize that in this, in chasing after his dreams, Kurt is neither enjoying nor wants to walk this path without Blaine by his side? Again, he finds himself needing to find his own footing, and while he's sure that he must be capable of it, he stumbles a little more often. Shines a little dimmer. Scrambles online for a plausible explanation to set his worries to rest.
And then someone else sees him, just walking about in a music store. It's been months since he's had his appearance complimented like that, it's been months since someone's looked at him with such an excited shine in their eyes, and indeed it's been years since anyone other than Blaine has liked Kurt of their own volition and at just a glance. (Because, as little as Kurt cares for Sebastian, he never did quite get over being told that he has a terrible case of the 'gay face.') All of this comes with a flood of relief, and the ache that's been building in his heart is temporarily abated, his shoulders pulling back with that old confidence again, and when Chandler asks for Kurt's number, he hesitates for only that second. Because he loves Blaine, and Blaine loves him, and he needs this not to jeopardize that, because he hasn't given up on Blaine, not by a mile.
But texts can be innocent, right? After all, Blaine's shared that with Sebastian before. It's just a little bolstering of self-esteem. No, Chandler doesn't mean anything compared to Blaine, but maybe it's just that Chandler understands better in the moment, and they're both excited for New York, and they both know that they need all the applause they can get, and it's just cute to once again feel desirable after a month of only getting kisses when they've been marked on the calendar. (Not the sexiest experience in the world.)
Soon, it gets out of hand. One text turns into three, three turns into a dozen, but it's okay, it's okay, because they're innocent and they're not doing anything, it's just exchanging compliments, and Blaine hasn't been around enough to notice anyway. Telling him would just be more stress to a relationship that's already a bit strained as of late; there's no point. Don't rock the boat. Just hold on for that audition, just take the positive from wherever it can be found, security from Blaine and that shock of pride from Chandler. It's fine, and it's really okay.
Until Blaine finds out. That look in Blaine's eyes is enough to twist Kurt's chest unpleasantly, and Blaine's asking about Chandler, and even though he hasn't really done anything wrong, Kurt still reacts because some part of him deep down has never felt entirely comfortable with this, and certainly never under the scrutiny of a second pair of eyes. But, but there are reasons why he's had to turn to this, Kurt thinks. Blaine hasn't hardly given him a second glance as of late unless necessary or scheduled, and how's that supposed to make Kurt feel, and what is so wrong if Kurt's getting a bit of that from another source while Blaine's going through whatever he's going through? It's entirely innocent, and Kurt just wishes that this didn't have to be such a big deal, and he's flushing and frantic because something in his world is being set off balance and it's just not right, he's done nothing to deserve this. Right?
Blaine can't understand, after all. Blaine has been loved and lauded and adored and hasn't had to sit on the outside as much as Kurt ever has. Blaine's the guy that everyone wants, whether as lead in their musical, or even as a makeout partner. He's the guy everyone falls for, be it meerkats smelling of Craigslist or even Kurt's own best friend, and he must not know how much it means for Kurt to be complimented for once. Is it true that he used to get solos all the time? No, hardly, but that's not the point. There's some part of Kurt that's been standing under Blaine's shadow ever since the two of them met, even when the two of them return to Kurt's own home territory, but what made it okay for so many months was the fact that even when everyone else turned a blind eye, Blaine was there. And he hasn't been. And Blaine couldn't possibly know how that feels, or why Kurt needs this so much. How it feels to wonder if Blaine still finds Kurt special, or beautiful, or the most interesting kid in the whole state. But it's okay, he repeats, insists, because they still love each other and at the end of the day, that will see them through, right?
Blaine leaves, though. And left in his wake, it's all that Kurt can do to hold that blanket around himself, because it's all he has left. Some vague and nebulous type of conviction. He doesn't get it. He doesn't get what's wrong.
The problem continues to stare him directly in the face the next day. In a move that's completely uncharacteristic of him, Blaine airs their problems for all to see, declares in front of their mutual friends that Kurt cheated, and to see everyone stare at him in such bewilderment and unease only makes Kurt dig in his heels more. He's been fighting all his life, and the only time he can keep his head above water is when he claws his way there. With his friends passing judgment already, it feels like everything is slipping, feels like Blaine's walking out that door and that everyone else is supporting him, and Kurt wonders exactly when it was that he became so alone.
He needs to address the problem. He needs to fight for Blaine, because he's not ready for this yet, but never before has he seen that kind of look in Blaine's eyes and he doesn't understand, and those lyrics besides, it's the kind of thing to say to someone you don't plan on looking back to. All that Kurt sees his Blaine's retreating figure, and to even begin and tackle that... Kurt doesn't know how.
Curling into himself, he turns to a triage of all of his belongings, marking what stays and what goes, almost sectioning off for himself the things he still believes in (not just in the room, but believes in being a strong part of himself), and Blaine's picture is one that's getting left behind in the trip. Because he's not sure where it'll be in the next month, let alone by the time he ships himself off to New York. The relationship's on the rocks, and it's simply easier to put it in a place where nothing will change. Denial is a river that runs deep.
But Burt comes in, and as a parent ought to, provides perspective. These days are the only ones they'll ever have before everything changes, and maybe it's time to be more demonstrative of that, to be able to say 'I don't want you to go' without fearing the repercussion, because the only thing worse would be to never get sentimental at all before it's too late. The talk isn't about Blaine, Kurt knows, but it's enough that he starts to think. It's far past the hour of waiting for Blaine to notice, it's far past the hour of looking anywhere else, because there is someone nearby who Kurt still loves and doesn't want to leave, and if he has to express that through song for Blaine to really get it, he'll do that. He'll shout it from the rooftops, he'll lay everything bare, no matter who's watching, but he'll say it now that Blaine can't leave, because some part of Kurt, however shy and hidden and not even fully acknowledged by himself, doesn't know what he'd do without Blaine. He has nothing without him.
And, however shaky it is and however much Kurt still doesn't understand how things have progressed to this point, if the song isn't enough for them to kiss and make up, he'll try anything. Turns to Miss Pillsbury for advice because couples' counseling is what everyone does when they're like this, right? They're just about the only couple who hasn't sat in those chairs yet anyway. So they go to her office, because if Kurt can't understand what's going on with Blaine and if Blaine can't see from Kurt's point of view, maybe they can find a third person who does. But god, the words start and it's just all the tiny things, little pet peeves like snapping his fingers at wait staff and bronzer and if this is enough for Blaine to be pulling away from Kurt then he doesn't know what he'll do, and it's just so stupid and why even—
—oh.
It's not really about that at all, is it?
Because Blaine finally says it out loud, the true reason for all the distance, and it's something that Kurt never thought of before. That it isn't that Blaine doesn't believe in Kurt, or in his dreams, and it's not even that Blaine's disinterested, but instead that he's terrified of the distance. Kurt's never even considered it before this moment, because in his mind it was a given that they'd keep the relationship going strong, that they would talk to each other every single day and work up crazy phone bills and that Kurt would cut his shopping budget to the quick to make sure Blaine could regularly visit. But now Blaine's confessed, and it strikes all of the defenses down that Kurt's built up, every single excuse he's tried to make for himself and his behavior, every cling to validation when he's never needed to look further than Blaine himself. He realizes that he, too, needs to be more considerate of Blaine's feelings, and if he needs to let Blaine know every single day of their lives that he's never leaving and needs to repeat that he is never saying goodbye to him, then Kurt will do that, because there's no one else he loves more and nothing that he won't do to try to make sure they find their forever.