What would it be like to be me? I know, I know, you have pondered this very thought yourself, haven’t you? You can admit it, we’re all friends here. Really, though, I wonder what it would be like to be a 100%, totally authentic version of myself. What would happen if I dropped this disease-to-please, nice-at-any-price persona? Would Bill leave me? Would Casey turn her furry little back on me? Would my coworkers run in the other direction when they saw me approach? Which is actually something my lovely coworkers did last week when I thought I had the plague but turned out to be strep which, in my defense, are not that different. They all saw me as the bearer of the Black Death. Would people react this way to me if I were just…me?
As I journey toward what I hope one day will be true happiness, I am realizing that one of the paths I have been constantly rerouting to is that of people pleaser. I have worn that path free from all grass and weeds, to the point where it’s just a 5’ 10” rut worn into the dirt, just tall enough for me to fit in, pace back and forth for years,and not be able to see out. It’s kind of dark in there and I would really like to continue on a road that is better suited to helping me become the authentic me.
When I think about this on a deeper level, I really don’t know what I’m afraid of. I don’t think there’s a hidden me inside who is a serial killer or a wannabe thief or just a totally horrible jerk of a person. I think I’m kind and quirky and solitary and cat crazy. I’m a coffee-loving, weight-challenged, chronically-in-pain writer. I hate veggies and I love bacon. None of these things are bad. None would put me in jail, or in a psych ward, or ostracize me from society.
So I guess I should just go ahead and be me. It’s not such a bad thing to be, is it?