What People Don’t See About Me (37 before 40)

This 40 Before 40 post brought to you by Bethany Wearden who’s beautiful writing you should check out here.  She posed the question “What do people not see about you?”

A lot of people’s (especially my students’) first impression of me is put together, intimidating, strong, successful.  But I’d like to tell everyone that I’m a lot more like the loose M&M’s rolling around the dashboard of Richard’s Plymouth GTX in Tommy Boy.  Thin candy shell, melty in the middle.  Surprised you didn’t know that.

M&M's
Photo Cred: “mmmmmmmm” (CC BY-NC-ND 2.0) by f_shields

For the most part, I feel that I’ve learned to be an open book, but I know that’s not always evident at first glance.  (Trust me.  People have told me.  And not always nicely.)  I try to let people in despite an upbringing that in many ways taught me how to keep people at arms length and how not to share what was really going on with me.  And though I would not say that I have resting bitch face, I would say that I have resting sad face.  Or resting think face.

I’d make a wager that people don’t see that I’m a big of a ball of mush on the inside.  I’m hyper aware of the many times that I feel like a mess.  Intimidated, weak and hardly a success at anything.  I’ve got just as many (or more) negative tapes playing in my head about who I am as the next gal (or guy).  Life is a constant cycle of becoming aware and then working those out for all of us.

And anyone who knows me well knows that I get emotional at the drop of a hat…especially when I’m talking to anyone about deep truths about myself…my insecurities, doubts and fears.  I also cry at Hallmark commercials, cute babies and deep pain expressed from others.  Sometimes, I’m talking and I start to cry at something I didn’t even know I cared that much about.  Leaky eyes are my uncontrollable nemesis.

Fun fact: I’ve cried in more restaurants in Los Angeles than I could name right now.  Once I suggested to a friend that I should start a list but I didn’t…and I lost count around 10 or 12.

Also, when I fall in love, I fall in love easily.  With friends, with men, with babies.  I’m mushy, people.  Mushy.

So, I’m a feeler.  I care.  About a lot of things and a lot of people.  But people who don’t look past the shell probably don’t see that I’m melty on the inside.

(This post is a part of a series called 40 Before 40.  40 thoughts on the 40 days before I turn 40 years old.  If you have a post suggestion, send it on.  Creativity is collaborative and I’ll take any writing prompts you want to send my way.)

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