When I was young I was Intimidation a lot at school. It's not something I think about often. In fact, I've blocked a lot of it from my memories. I am the type of person who tends to look forward and never look back. But I think it says a lot about who I am as an adult today.
I know I was a weird kid with weird tastes who liked not getting too good and pressing as many buttons as possible. I never felt left out and underdog, I never felt part of a group. I remember popular kids throwing peanuts at me during lunch (I was, and still am, terribly allergic to them), and I never went to prom or back home. It didn't help that I turned around and yelled at them that one day they would wash my car.
In my small rural Virginia town, I always felt like a black sheep. I knew I had always wanted to escape and see the world. I dreamed of having a big life full of adventures and interesting stories. To be my heroine. I was the only child growing up with a big imagination. Many times I find myself thinking about the fact that I feel so lucky to be part of the last generation that grew up without smartphones or social media. So very lucky.
I always considered myself like that introvert. In fact, I was recently diagnosed with severe social anxiety. That explains a lot! When I tell people this, it is often met with disbelief. I get it. I got really good at being a fake extrovert for my work. But the truth is, I need to rest and recharge on my own to function well. Even now, after all this time, I still consider myself an outsider looking at a social world that seems foreign to me.
Sometimes I wonder if the fact that I still act like a stranger stems from all these stories. I may appear to be an extrovert, which I am in many ways, but I am actually quite a loner. I try never to ask for help, thinking I don't deserve it, that I'm still that weird duck eating lunch alone. I wonder why? What made me like this? I can clearly see how she has become the type to stubbornly refuse all help. I can take care of myself Thank you very much.
That said, the past eight months have taught me how much I need my friends and family. I absolutely hate it, but I've had to rely on a lot of people, and it surprises me every time people show up and care about me. I guess I'm expecting to give up. Isn't that very sad? And now more than ever. How do we recover from betrayals as adults?
I can feel my story shifting under my skin of who I am versus who I tell myself I am. I feel, over the course of my life, I've become very guarded, but the last year has ripped me to pieces.
As I rebuild my life, I find myself wanting to hide more than ever to protect myself. The truth is, I already knew the opposite was best for me. Perhaps the joy I seek is outside the walls of my home, and living more openly is actually less terrifying and painful than I ever imagined.
Maybe it's time to let people in again.
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