Sometimes I’m…

Continuing to examine who I am by describing myself. my thoughts, my feelings. It’s a strange experience, as I have lived most of my life taking myself, my identity for granted.

Side note: I’m aware that my posting pace is rapid and it may not afford myself or anyone else a chance to really digest what I have to say. That’s OK for now. I’m new at this, my blog is new and I need to get these things out of my head. I’m sure it will slow and grow more measured over time.

Today I’m thinking about who I am, not in single word descriptions, but in more complete thoughts.

Sometimes, I’m…

…a little bit obsessive. I think about things too much, over-think, over-analyze. It can be exhausting.

…too worried about what other people think of me, my choices, my personality. So much so that its stifling, at times.

…perfectly content to be alone and silent. The quiet is refreshing. Noise can make me nervous.

…afraid to ask for what I need or want, because I don’t want people to think me greedy, needy, lame.

…satisfied with everything and everyone in my life. Those golden moments are a rare gift.

…cringing at my own awkwardness and praying no one will look at me. When I feel I’m at my biggest, ugliest, nerdiest, most inept, I wish I were invisible.

…grateful for my big, ugly, awkward body because it shields me from the gaze of the shiny, popular world at large (that, some days, is still as real and painful as it was in high school). When they’re not jeering and throwing stones, no one sees us ugly ones.

…secretly pleased when someone calls me “Sir”.

…secretly crushed when someone turns that “Sir” into a slur, a cut, a hammer aimed at my head.

…not so sensitive to others’ thoughts. When I am at my most grounded, sure of myself and my position, I care very little if anyone agrees with, understands, or commiserates with me. But I always still seem to care if they like me, which often makes me feel weak.

…so sure I’m right and so persuasive with my argument that I win the other person over. I love that feeling. Not to gloat, but to confirm my conviction with their agreement. It’s dangerously intoxicating.

…such a geek that others wonder how I function in the real world. Somehow, that doesn’t bother me much.

…so happy to be helpful to someone that it doesn’t matter how hard, inconvenient or unpleasant the task. I get pleasure from being helpful, useful and available to my friends and colleagues.

…so tired that I miss nuances in conversations that later turn out to be vitally important. Being present, fully in the moment for the person you are with is a great gift of respect.

…so full of feelings that I fear I may burst. But, perversely, those are the moments when I’m most inarticulate. It’s maddening.

…buried so far into my own head that the real world becomes insignificant, trivial. That’s a very particular and ugly form of selfishness and I feel ashamed of it when it happens.

…very self-critical. It helps to keep me grounded, keep me from being insufferably arrogant. But it can spiral into destructiveness.

…pleased with my achievements. It makes me feel smart, successful when a milestone is reached and both myself and others recognize it.

…less than. Less than happy, less than good, less than I should be.

…exactly right. About my life, my job, my self.

…too or just or not. Too big, too loud, too ugly, too smug, too much. Just plain, just fat, just a girl, just another. Not right, not enough, not wanted.

…everything that’s good and right and needed.

…happy. Despite this rather dreary list, that’s quite often how I feel.


4 comments so far

  1. barbaralsharpe on

    Discovering who you are is a great journey! I’m looking forward to reading your discoveries. 🙂

  2. Femmi on

    too or just or not. Just big enough, just loud enough, not ugly, not smug, not too much.
    not plain, not fat, not just a girl, not just another. just right, just enough, too wanted.

    A different mirror.

    • Searching4Self2013 on

      Thank you, Femmi. What a blessing to have friends who will reflect back what they see when our own internal mirrors distort our own view. I see you, too, and my world is all the brighter for it.

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