I have discovered, over the past few days, that I really haven't travelled that far away from the shy nerd I was as a freshman in high school. Who would have thought that at 33 years old I would still be suffering from the same insecurities I was suffering from 18 years ago? Who would have thought that the same things that made me happy back then would make me happiest now?
I still worry that people will talk about me behind my back.
I still get physically ill at the thought of confrontation, or the thought that someone is mad at me.
I still get tongue tied when new people talk with me.
I still worry that my hair is sticking up or I have something stuck between my teeth.
I still worry that I'm not as smart as the people around me and they will discover that my whole persona is nothing more than a farce.
I still like pizza and cold beer late at night.
I still HATE it when people don't pay attention and then cover their mistakes/asses with lies.
I still wonder why people don't smile.
I still love it when I can make a friend smile.
Most of my insecurities seem to be rooted deep in my fear of what other people will think or say. Funny...that is one of the few things I can't control...so it seems to make me the most uncomfortable. I can't just grab someone and say, "You MUST like me." Life doesn't work that way. And no matter what I do, some people are just not going to like me. Why does that hurt me so? It's irrational, really. But there it is.
People often talk about feeling young or old. But for myself, it doesn't seem to be that there is much difference between the two.