Sunday, February 10, 2013

huffy muppets, makeovers, and a reminder of how wonderful you are

Personality is a terrifying thing. Too little, and you'll disappear into the porous woodwork of people who laugh at exactly the right volume or have the perfect haircuts or can walk around without looking like a huffy muppet. Too much, and you're the vulgar one. The outspoken one. The one who maybe drinks a little too much or makes that one joke that toes a line.

I have, and never will be, a balanced person. I go through phases of obsession, with foods, (CLEMENTIIIIIIIIIIINES!) clothes, (a magenta blazer I recently bought) and TV shows (I'm looking at you, Doctor Who). When something becomes my favorite, I think it's my favorite thing of all time...until I find my next favorite. I'm not very graceful, but as the boyf says, I'm built for durability. I like to think this means I'm like a super-industrial, stylish piece of Ikea furniture, but also I just want to have bedhead and wear the huge t-shirts with dogs faces on them forever and ever.

I'm not the best at meeting new people. I'm perpetually worried that I'll cross a political line, offend someone with my many words for vagina, (that's what happens when you write erotica), or be the annoying one.  After awhile, I stopped being myself not only in public, but in private, too.

That internalization of worry and insecurity literally manifested on the outside. My hair grew out to a length that made it fall flat and faded to a weird mousy brown. I wouldn't wear eyeliner because it made my eyes look too big. I kept my shoulders slumped and I struggled to make eye contact.

But then it sort of dawned on me that the only thing worse than being all of yourself is being absolutely none of yourself. Because at the end of the day, I'm a force to be reckoned with. We all are.

I've yet to meet someone who doesn't say something off-color that's both wildly hilarious and strangely moving. We are all so powerfully flawed and gorgeously messy, and those little divots and splotches on our personalities (and bodies) are what makes grabbing drinks around a piano bar, or reading blogs, or talking to the woman behind you at Target so incredibly fulfilling.

So often, I find myself censoring a comment/tweet/blog post/text/joke because it's TOO me, and I know I'm not alone in this. WHAT ARE WE SO SCARED OF? Forging connections? Going from anonymous to noticed? After all, noticed means people will talk, and not everything they say will always be nice.

But ultimately, all we can do, each and every one of us who are TOO [insert adjective], is to live in the way that sets our eyes alight with excitement, and love, and hilarity.

Wedging myself into the little gray boxes of anonymity was so fucking exhausting, you guys, and it's nice to be out and breathing. All I can say is I'm ready to adventure.



Come with me?

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