When we were teenagers one of my friends proudly showed off the fake designer handbag her brother had brought back for her from china and it really bothered me. I didn’t care that it wasn’t genuine nor was I on a moral high horse about the counterfeiting industry. What really got under my skin was the fact that this particular bag didn’t even try to be passable as the real thing. The materials were crappy, it was sewn poorly and I’m pretty sure it broke fairly quickly. I know it’s a bit of touristy fun to buy fake designer stuff but I hated how sneaky it was. I felt like the bag had no shame. It wasn’t just cheap and inferior but it was thinly disguised as something better and it’s pretense made a mockery of my own attempts to disguise my crappier side.
If a bag could be put together so poorly and still be bought and appreciated, I worried that people could also easily tell that I was flawed and that I was just attempting to be passable as “normal.” If people could see through my deception then why the hell were they keeping me around? Was I a joke just like that stupid bag? Was I just a tacky souvenir?
Some counterfeit products are almost identical to the real thing and this is what I wanted my life to be like. I knew I wasn’t like everyone else but I tried my hardest to keep up appearances so that only an expert might be able to tell the difference. Living this way proved problematic though because if people can’t see your weaknesses, they start to expect more from you.
When “I’m sorry, I just can’t”, takes over and you show your real value then people realise how expendable you are and how easily you can be replaced, just like a cheap and horrible handbag.