You never think something like this would ever matter. Until it does. Until it hits you right in your heart, kicks you, fills you up with pain and uncertainty about who you are. And then you're full of hatred towards someone else for them only pretending they understand you; playing with you and nodding to your words only to turn away in disgust when they face the "real" you; one they prefer to see as real, at least. The sad truth is that they are hurt no less. By your words. By your actions. By you trying to be not who you are. Bloody hard to be a tulpa.