"Clear the attic."
"I beg your pardon?"
"And be aware of the timidity. Just know that."
I was dumbfounded. In two sentences, I had been assessed by a clairvoyant with alarming alacrity, and it shook me.
I have always had a mind impervious to rest. It races through myriad thoughts, at times with such speed that I'll lose a really profound idea mere moments after it happens because my mind will move towards another, seemingly disparate tangent. I find myself constantly assessing and weighing scenarios, judging them by their merits and detractions. It can be a wonderful tool, in that it allows me to appraise many factors before making a decision. Then again, it can become a paradox of choice, where the abundance of different options leads me to freeze, overwhelmed by the variety.
Furthermore, I am, by my own assessment, a rather shy individual. I am good at being the boisterous one at the party, and I do love ripping into a fast and hopefully witty repartee. I'll do anything for a laugh even if it's embarrassing. That said, my idea of a good time has always been a quiet one-on-one with someone I care about, reconnecting and enjoying the time together. I'm wary of the loud, drunken bar, or the party with people I don't really know. I let my self be boisterous to combat the wariness. Sometimes I succeed, sometimes I don't.
So the fact that this woman honed in on both of them astounded me, because she had picked up on the two aspects of myself that have caused me the greatest hindrance in communicating and expressing myself and my needs: the former, because it constantly analyzes and judges what I say and the other's possible reactions, leaving me ill at ease; the latter because it expounds my anxiety in speaking up, too timid to voice what is essential for my own happiness. It denies me being anything but pleasant, when I can be a myriad of different feelings and emotions and states of being, all of them valid.
This has been brewing for a time, and came to a head recently. I realize now that it must stop, if only for the mere fact that I have not been taking care of myself, mentally, physically, and circumstantially. It is insipid and insidious, and the realization that I have been sacrificing my voice to amend and appease others, to defer my opinion in order to make everyone else happy, is actually fraudulent and dishonest. As I seek true emotional and mental honesty, and honest concern and care from my loved ones, this is my greatest struggle.
Someone recently said to me, "We are so obsessed with loving each other that we aren't being real with each other." She hadn't directed it to me specifically, but it struck me, leaving me pondering the meaning for the rest of the day. We cannot love if we are not completely honest, either with ourselves or with others. We miss so much real intimacy by offering what we think is the right answer, the politically correct opinion, the safe response. We try to sugar coat things, molding ourselves into being the perfect "someone" others may wish us to be, while never letting ourselves shine through, letting them know the real us. We do them and ourselves a disservice.
So here is my cry, impassioned and forthright. I will no longer allow myself to bullshit. To not voice myself. I will not provide the safe response. I will not be timid. I will be honest and concise, but not cruel and judgmental. I will not hide myself for others' sake. I will laugh when I want, hold your hand when I would like to, joke when I feel it, and love as I will. I will dare to be out there, to be idiosyncratic, to not conform, and to create what I can. Do not patronize me, do not condescend, do not exalt me, or put me on a pedestal. Enjoy me as I am, warts and all. I promise you I will do the same. I will seek out the truth in you, the beauty that you possess. I will not try to fit you into a box, or force you to be anything other than who and what you are. I will enjoy you as you come, revel in your imperfections, and love you as you are meant to be loved. I am not perfect, and I can never be. You and I are merely God's creations, and that is perfection enough.
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