I'm not entirely sure I can pinpoint the moment it happened. Perhaps it was while I was walking the streets alone in the middle of the night in Vegas. Or maybe it was finding out something I had once thought I wanted turned out to be a sham. Or, it could just possibly be because something just biologically "clicked" when I turned 30.
No matter the moment, the point is that it happened. I never really understood the overused phrase, "turning over a new leaf" because frankly, people rarely ever do. But something - and I'm not entirely sure what that something is - happened in the fall/winter of 2009. I became a true leaf-turner, though not entirely in the ways I would have imagined.
I've considered writing a blog about my not-so-subtle changes for awhile, but haven't felt compelled to until I finally realized that a lot of people that thought (or think) they knew (or know) me, well, they might not.
So here it is, the differences - whether good or bad - from the girl I used to be to the person I am now.
1. Cork the Bubbly:
I used to be quite friendly. This was something I was actually once known for. Sometimes shy and reserved around new people, I was still talkative around most people and always tried to make people comfortable. Now, both the effort and art behind the comforting attempts seem to be lost on me. It's not that I go out of my way to make someone uncomfortable, I just don't see the need to always fill the silence. Unless I'm around my best-friend, and a few select others when I really can't seem to put a cork in it. But for the most part? I rarely find myself in situations where I'm around someone I could talk to for "hours". That isn't to say that any of my long time friends should think I don't care. I care. I just don't see how bullshitting for the sake of bullshitting proves it.
2. Shit-can the Self-Conscious:
I also used to be known for being extremely self-conscious, almost to the morbid point of self-loathing. I'm being generous by saying "almost". I've wandered through various stages of self-pitying and self-loathing throughout my life, with a few months here and there where I gave myself a slight reprieve from it. But, for the most part, I genuinely set myself up for my own failure by constantly selling myself short. Never one to fully recognize my own potential, I just always took what came, usually with open arms, no matter how much shit was slung my way. The guy you like is in love with your friend? What do you do? I'll tell you what you do -- you set them up, of course! How many times do you do this? Let's just say I stopped counting after the first three. The guy that scares the bejesus out of all of your friends in high school wants to date you? Sure! Why don't we throw in a nice, romantic Valentine's Day dinner for three (yes, three - his friend came too) on me! Why? Because guys don't have purses, duh! They tend to forget to wear the pants with pockets so they can bring their wallets. And don't forget to make sure you drive 35 minutes to pick him up (and his friend) since neither has a car or a license, and they are both out of high school because they dropped out. Who has time for school when there are knives to play with and beer to drink? Wait, wait, wait... I'm getting ahead of myself, here. We have to pause and reflect on why said dude is being dated in the first place - because the guy you really like, the one you perfected your flirting skills on, is too shy to admit his feelings, so you (of course) misinterpret that as disinterest and think you have a snowball's chance in hell of ever dating 'good' dude. How many times do you pull this maddening maneuver of dating douche-y dude over 'good' dude? Let's just say it's right on par with setting up your friends with the guys you like. Douche-y dudes have radar for girls that have self-conscious issues. They know they can get away with almost anything because these girls just don't think they can get (or deserve) anything else.
I'm not suggesting that all the guys I've dated have been d-bags. Quite honestly, I think I've dated some really great guys. They've all had their faults, but some faults are sexy - I'm not perfect, far from it, so I don't expect the person I'm with to be perfect either. But, knowing what kind of dudes I have a knack for attracting, I've pushed myself into a male-drought (that started out more painful than it really is) until I find the motivation to kick my ass back in gear so I have a better selection of the opposite sex. This isn't self-loathing or self-pitying behavior. This is being realistic. Acceptance of reality isn't a bad thing - it's a demonstration of sanity and it certainly doesn't bring me down. I've actually been enjoying the drought life, and that's why the motivation seems to be lacking. Which brings me to point 3...
3. Suck it Up! Solitude is Not for Sissies:
Growing up, I can't even begin to tell you how many times I cried over guys. Whether I was being asked out as a 'joke', looked at as a 'consolation prize' or found myself firmly planted in the 'friend zone', I never had it easy. Looking back, it's not hard to see where the self-conscious attitude came from. Add braces, gaining weight, and puberty to the mix and you have yourself a nice few years of misery. High School wasn't easy. I had to have a friend set me up on a blind date for my Junior Prom (a disaster of a story that will have to wait for another time), and for my Senior Prom, I had no one in the entire county I lived in that would take me. Now, lucky for me, I have an older brother with some pretty awesome friends who have always been like my adopted brothers, and after bawling my eyes out to my brother (who was in college) that I wasn't going to my Senior Prom because there was no way in hell I was going alone, a gift in the form of Michael came to the rescue (love you, buddy!) - one of my brother's 'awesome friends' who also happened to be his college roommate and heard about my situation. So, Senior Prom was saved, but the pattern continued.
College was a slap in the face to whatever self-respect I had left. Finally realizing there was nowhere to go but "up", I ditched my life and joined the Navy. Once in, it was so EASY to turn heads. If your head wasn't shaved in boot camp, you were immediately attractive to almost every guy there, just for being a girl. Hoo-ya! This was the place for me. All I needed was to have hair to be attractive, they made it so easy!
Once out of boot camp and at my very long technical school, it just kept getting easier. Now I could put the contacts back in, wear jeans and cute shirts, and actually make effort in the appearance department. Still destined to attract the d-bags, I faltered a little here -- I had the opportunity to break out of the pattern I had created for myself, and it was an opportunity somewhat missed. But, take heart! Once I found my footing, I went strong for awhile. 99% of the guys I really dated in my life happened quite consecutively, without much break in between. Growing somewhat cocky, I didn't see the pitfalls ready and waiting to claim my new-found confidence. But a few events here and there, and I was back down for the count. The blinking countdown on the console was begging me to put more coins in, to get back up and back out there, but my pockets were empty. Game Over.
The "drought" has lasted for longer than I'll share, simply out of self-respect (Ha! See, I have some now!) But, the good news is that it tends to grow on you. The first step is realizing the fear behind the sadness -- the fear of being alone that always caused the crying fits to begin with. Face that and somehow find a way to get past it and suddenly the self-pitying vanishes.
When the drought first started, I was miserable. Back to the self-loathing individual I thought I ditched in college, it was hard to not fall back in other self-pitying patterns of bad behavior. I stopped caring. Add to the stress of my life at the time, and it was a situation that seemed pretty desperate. I didn't want to go back to the way I was, crying over not feeling loved, feeling sorry for myself, but there it was. Like a damn itch you just can't scratch, I couldn't seem to pull myself out of the funk I was up to my neck in. The months turned into years, until finally I was back at feeling there was nowhere to go but "up." I was wrong. So down the rabbit hole I fell until the way up was too far out of reach to even consider trying to climb. A new exit strategy had to be put in place: Make the hole your home.
So, solitude was a welcome state. To be honest, I think everyone should experience being on their own, and mostly alone, for at least a small part of their life. You quickly learn what kind of person you are when you are only around yourself. With no one else to entertain or be concerned about, you do things for you. You cook what you like to eat. You watch what entertains you. You go where you want. You spend your money the way you want. You answer to no one. You finally own yourself completely. Once you embrace the power of complete independence, it makes you question whether you are now capable of having it any other way. Whether you would even want to have it any other way. You question a lot. Questions are good. Questions imply choices. Choices - your choices - give you power. Suddenly you feel you have a lot of potential. It's all up to you and what you want to do with it. I haven't decided yet. I'm still asking questions. But at least now I know what I can handle, what I can find comfort in, what I can thrive in, and what I can survive. Not everyone has those answers. I certainly never did before - all I had was the fear.
4. Silence the Sorry - Learning to Not Apologize:
"I'm sorry" was such a frequent phrase leaving my tongue that it started sounding meaningless to the people it was directed to. I would apologize for EVERYTHING. Even shit I had no reason to apologize for. I did this mostly with guys, desperately seeking the approval I felt would vanish if I stood up for myself. So here are just a few things I refuse to apologize for:
A. Swearing. I was a sailor for six years and have always enjoyed a 'colorful' way of speaking. I'll apologize when f-bombs become offensively frequent in conversation to someone I'm usually a little better mannered with. Say, for example, an older adult, or if I slip in front of a kid (this, if ever, rarely happens). But, if I feel compelled to use that language around someone that might normally not think it completely appropriate, tough! Words are not scary. They are consonants and vowels. Syllables. I would much rather you use the word "shit" in a sentence than use the word "ointment". And "God damn it" is no worse than damn it. Damn it.
B. Religion, or lack there-of. I'm not going to apologize for my opinions on this. I grew up Lutheran. My anti-religious resolve that started in High School has buckled a few times in my adulthood, but my beliefs in what is important are strong, and I've grown very stubborn over the years. Someone smart once said that "Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely." Churches and organized religions have proven in a multitude of ways that they are corrupt in nature. They promise something they can't deliver, and that's the nicest thing they do. I won't turn this into an anti-Church rant, but when people say that churches and religion don't do harm, I have a sudden desire to talk about AIDS in 3rd world countries and the missionary preaching of the sinful use of contraceptives, but wait, this isn't a rant, and I won't go down that road. That's a conversation for another time.
C. Coming Out Swinging. I have never enjoyed confrontation. I was never the girl to really stand up for myself, and when I did, it was a muted effort at best. But, I no longer care if someone doesn't like what I have to say, and I no longer fear what someone will think if I disagree. I take great care in choosing my battles and knowing when to walk away, but if you paint me into a corner, see just how much I enjoy going to bat.
D. Hard-Hearted. I used to love tear jerkers. Romantic comedies were my favorite movie genre. I loved a good romance as much as the next girl. Not anymore. Romantic comedies are only enjoyable for me if the guy is funny and cute. Take away either one and I'm not likely going to want to see it. I need more than romantic dribble. I need eye candy if I'm going to make it through that kind of movie. Or an honest-to-goodness great script. Crazy, Stupid, Love for example had a great script. Great cast. That was a good movie. Another Steve Carrell vehicle, Dan in Real Life -- that was a great movie. Not your typical romantic comedy. Sure, they are all cliched. Boy meets girl. Boy loses girl. Boy goes running through an airport chasing girl. Girl forgives boy. Girl and boy live happily ever after. The plot is tired and predictable. Doing something - anything - to break out of the playbook risks losing your targeted audience that want the cliche. The characters have to have chemistry. The story has to be good. Or else it just needs to be an hour and a half escape with eye candy. It has to be one or the other (preferably both) for me to enjoy it. Now, give me an action movie or adventure any day of the week. Raunchy comedy? Yea, I like those too. And I certainly won't even begin to apologize for liking the eye candy in those movies. That's the benefit of being single, my friends, I can ogle anyone I want as much as I want. Who can possibly feel jealous?
5. Desperately Seeking...Acceptance?:
Along with being self-conscious I also remember once being a person constantly seeking the approval of others. In my limited defense on this topic, I will say that my wanting to be accepted never led me down a path I wasn't already comfortable traveling on. For example, I've never used illegal drugs - ever. I don't smoke, nor ever felt a desire to, and although I did my fair share of drinking, binge drinking wasn't a regular weekend for me (sure, it happened a few times), but I did it because I wanted to, not because I thought others wanted me to. But I did seek approval from people in other ways. Whether it was liking their type of music, their taste in movies, or even their taste in food, I was ready and willing to do what I needed to in order to be accepted by the people I wanted the acceptance from.
I wouldn't seek approval from everyone, just people I felt worthy of giving it. Those people tended to not be the type to partake in illegal behavior, so the things I did were always innocent enough. But now I've narrowed down this desire even more. The people I want approval from are standard for everyone - your boss (we all want to do a good job, right?), close friends (there is no one worse disappointing than friends), and selected family. But this type of approval isn't the same, and is (I believe) standard in society.
But here's the difference: I won't alter my behavior to get that acceptance, even from these select people. I do a good job because I like feeling like I've earned my paycheck, and I enjoy feeling as though people at work know they can rely on me. I like being counted on, it makes me feel all warm and tingly inside. And I really get a rush knowing I'm the "go-to" person on a particular subject or skill. That goes with friends and family as well. I like feeling responsible, and it makes me feel good knowing people trust me. I still follow rules, so I'm not suggesting I have a big middle finger sticking up to the world. But I no longer have the desire to do something just because someone I want to be accepted by does something. I no longer need or want approval from anyone. If people don't like the decisions I make, tough.
A few other changes have been noticeable as well, some more than others. One that comes quickly to mind is the embarrassment factor. Sure, this sort of goes along with being self-conscious (so many things go along with that), but I think it's worth mentioning on its own. I used to embarrass incredibly easy. Now, I've shown my ass (literally) to a guy at work without any of the panic-induced attacks I would have had before over the situation. I sing at work at the top of my lungs some days, just because I feel like it, knowing full well my singing voice sounds like a dying cat struggling to get out of a container. I watch movies with extremely sexy actors and have reactions reminiscent of a 12 year old girl, and I don't care.
This is who I am. I'm still compassionate. I'm still kind. There is still a lot of the old me inside, but I am different. I'm stronger. I'm more relaxed. In my opinion, I'm a better me. And my opinion is the only one I can be concerned about.
So if I act differently than I used to, please stop asking if something is wrong -- it's not because something is wrong, it's just because I AM different.
