Awhile back, you gave me a letter of sorts that said five wonderful things about me. How much you admired my confidence, that you loved my sarcasm and humor, and other things I appreciated so so much.
But I don’t want you to come away with an inaccurate impression of me. Not because I don’t think I’m awesome—but because it sometimes feels that you value these traits you think you see in me and don’t value the some of the perhaps “opposite” traits in yourself. And I never want to give you to feel that way.
For starters--I hate the idea of appearing weak, which often comes across as brash, confident, and tough. I put on an air that seems to not care what others think, but of course I want people to think well of me in most all situations. I hide my emotions—which is something I’ve been working on expressing better. But this has worked out pretty disastrously for me the last two times I really made myself vulnerable and open to criticism. I lost two people I thought were some of my closest friends. I learned that in some instances, friends love conditionally. And I’ve had to face and accept the fact that sometimes I do too.
I tell you this because I want to admit that these “good” things in me have consequences that I struggle with. I don’t get everything right—even when I’m so sure I'm going about things the right way.
I also want to remind you that the loudest voice in a group doesn’t mean it’s the right one or the best one. And that being loud and having the comfortable ease to express one’s opinion does not make it any more valid that the person who sits quietly. In fact, people who are first to speak often don’t think through exactly what they are saying—I know this happens to me. Foot-in-mouth moments? Damn I'm so good at those.
You told me that you loved how funny I am—and I like this about myself too. Except I’ve learned that my humor isn’t always understood, appreciated, or appropriate for a given situation. I’ve discovered how much I can hurt people with this “funny” part about me. And this part I don’t like—I don’t like how I’m quick to get frustrated with others, how I sometimes think they take things too seriously, or that I’m intimidating.
I build up walls with my humor, my confidence, and my—shall we say, loudness. And I’m trying to find ways to stay true to myself while still letting everyone around me be comfortable being who they are.
I guess what I really wanted to say was that yes, I like who I am and I am confident in my ideas and actions—but at the same time I never want you to have the impression that my loudness, humor, and apparent ease in some situations is in anyway better than those who sit and observe, think long before speaking, quietly voice an opinion--or choose not to voice it at all, or sometimes feel uncomfortable. Everyone has insecurities; some people just hide them more than others. And those who allow themselves to be vulnerable and show their insecurities often make the better person.
I love that you are so thoughtful.
I love that you take important things very seriously. That you treasure your relationships and can find the good things in so many places and people.
I love that, even though you are cautious by nature, you take risks
And I love that you are exactly the way you are, and I never want you to change to be something you’re not, no matter how “easy” you may think it would be to sometimes be something or someone different.
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