Excellent.

I know you might have left yesterday feeling a bit perplexed. Was I asking you to change to accommodate someone or something else? Not even a little. I was asking you to start to consider how you can move into new spaces that feel infinitely more agreeable.

I want to give you a substantive example so we can separate the positive moves from the deep-seated desire to alter your personality to suit others. Before I’ve even laid words down on paper here, I’m feeling judged. I am. What I’m going to say next is going to come across in a way that I can’t control. And, I already know a lot of the reaction. This is what it’s all about though, right? Moving forward in spite of such feelings.

I have difficulty with humans who tell me they are great all the time. I don’t always trust the sincerity of such, but my aversion is not deeply connected to not believing them. Why, then? What’s the problem? Well, there is a part of me that struggles with two fundamental notions, as follows: (i) I am not always great and thus, I will come across somewhat Debbie Downer like, and (ii) it makes me conscious of an almost irreversible incompatibility between me and that human.

I want to break that down a little so we are on the same page.  I am not an overly negative person. In fact, I like to think that my outlook is a heavy dose of realism tinged with a heathy dose of hope. Even with all that I’ve been through, I still like to think that there are good people in the world who do good things. Or even so-so people who do decent things. Let’s take what we can get, eh?

Anyway, my problem is not that I see the world as doomed and people as festering sores. To the contrary, my hope and faith sometimes leads to grave disappointment. In the face of absolute evidence that someone is going to show a shitty side, I still like to think not, and I am therefore, crushed once that piece is revealed or exposed. I don’t get leveled (not much anyway), but I feel bummed and then burdened by my sadness or disenchantment or all of the above.

Also, important to point out (if you haven’t sorted this out yet) that I am passionate and sensitive. So, that amps my reactions up a notch.

So, if I am having difficulty processing something going on in the world, or work, or with friends, or with family, it’s difficult to open up to someone who is seemingly always great. While I’ve grown more secure in my reactions, I still begin to question myself when I consistently run headfirst into unabashed and unwavering sunshine. A tide that never swells or retreats. While there is something nice about a level personality, and some measure of that keeps me grounded, too much of that feels unsettling. This is particularly true when it’s someone who is seemingly kind, but mic drops little condescending tidbits that acknowledge an emotional response in the same way one might recognize a papercut.   

The other issue I have is the depth of that other human. I think it’s obvious that I feel this way, but let me be clear that I in NO way judge humans that don’t have vast depth. As I am clearly spelling out here, depth can be magical and interesting, but also, dark and mysterious and troubling. It cuts both ways. Living a bit more surface is fine. It’s just not entirely for me. Or it is, but in small doses.

If I get a heaping serving of someone more surface, I find myself feeling grumpy. Why? Well, because I spend a lot of time being self-conscious about what I am and what I bring to the table.

So, what then? Do I become some sort of elitist? Do I insist that someone has to be intense and dramatic, or cast them aside? Not even close. This is where the shifting and the changed response comes in. I can measure how I engage with them. What I tell them, what the dynamic of our relationship is like, and how often I engage. Taken in smaller doses, the personality is actually one I find lovely. It’s like a burst of sunshine on a murky day. There is no exact formula for this really. It is just sort of feeling around in the dark until you stumble upon what feels good.

Rather than spending time with those folks when I’m out of sorts or anxious or angry or sad, I keep to myself, or I engage with others who share a similar feeling. That way, I can preserve the relationship and also, my sanity. I don’t have any desire to change other people. I don’t. Sure, sometimes I wish that things could be different, but in the end, I deeply appreciate that it takes all kinds. I recognize the true value in diversity and open-mindedness. It is simply about finding my formula. Staying true to who I am, avoiding explaining myself constantly to others, and making decisions that feel “right”.

I want to caveat that you can absolutely stay connected to people who are vastly different from you and try and smush yourself into a person that would mesh better. You can. You can try and change in a way that’s meaningful. I am not here to discourage you from trying anything that feels good. For me, the problem with that is it’s not really who I am, and the only reason I want to be that, is because it seems easier and better. I only want to grow into someone else because it feels more likable.

I don’t though. I spent time living in that head space. I have, many times over my 41 years, dipped into a pool of self-loathing and prayed that I would emerge someone else. Someone more palatable to a wider audience. And then, I sort of just decided to like me for who I am. I still work on myself. I still strive for improvement. I still want to learn and grow. I just don’t have the desire to become someone else altogether. I don’t have the desire to prove to anyone that I am capable of connecting in a way that doesn’t serve me or feed me.

It’s not easy just being who I am. I know that likely reads strangely, but it’s true. It’s not. I’ll tell you something though. It’s a helluva lot easier than being someone else.

Right?

X

L.