I talk a lot about insecurity. And not in an I’ll Show You Mine if You Show Me Yours type of way. I’m just out with it these days. Because, I’ve learned a few important things in the last three years. So, I may talk about insecurity a lot…But I’m not sure it could ever be enough.
It’s not so fine a line to walk, whether you expose these things up front. Or whether you try to meet the standard you perceive someone has of you…or, the standard they’ve said they have of you. Blurrier yet, a standard expected of you as a man. High or low.
So, what exactly are the options here. Well…bypass all that bullshit and lay everything out. I’d rather call myself out than have someone else beat me to it. It’s happened and I’m still recovering. Or have anyone assume the worst of me because they won’t speak with me or ask. It’s happened and I am very much not recovered.
This particular lesson was in realizing that, it’s there. These things are there. They are part of me. They come with me like a raggedy old dog. SURPRISE! Well…the surprise is actually what I would like to avoid going forward 😣 Because, let’s face it. If you drag a raggedy dog in behind you, he’s going to show up where ever you do. There’s no hiding it for very long. Or, “Oh him? Yeah, I was gonna mention that.” Because now, the impression is painted that you’ve been evasive, and left things out. You tried to hide that uncomely dog. You wanted to talk about it…you genuinely did.
You will be taken as someone wishes to take you, regardless. But I feel much better about myself when I am free to explain my struggles, insecurities, shortcomings, quirks, mistakes, fears…and deep seated issues that, believe me, I am *well* aware of, and try to be as open as I can about. I don’t frankly believe that denying the ugly parts of ourselves does anything but cause our failed patterns to repeat. And repeat. I would have no right to complain if I never changed a thing about myself, and still expected the results to be different for me. Nor would it be reasonable of me to expect vulnerability and openness in others, if I was locked down like Fort Knox emotionally. In other words, I would never ask for something I couldn’t give back.
Now let’s talk about that word. Free. As in, ‘Free to explain‘. But, ain’t nothin’ free in life except that third ride on the CTA! There is a price you pay in being open. A price you will always pay in allowing yourself to be vulnerable. Vulnerable to insult, judgment, assumptions, abandonment. You name it…you’re basically a bleeding animal carcass once you admit your weaknesses. Sometimes it’s treated tenderly. You can’t know. Either way, I’m proud of that blood. Proud to lay there. At least then there is an earthly chance I’ll be understood and possibly accepted for who I am. At least then I’m not hiding. And never have. I never moved. I never left.
So, I don’t mind bleeding now and again. I have made mistakes. I fucked up a lot when I didn’t know any better. Everyone has at some point. I can’t change any of it now, but I can learn from my mistakes and not repeat them. Repair them if possible. My insecurities do not equal an insecure person. I am evolved enough to know that much. They are the very things that make me exactly who I am.
…I was teased most of my life for being too skinny. I was teased as a child for being poor. I was teased by my father for crying. My mother openly mocked and taunted my trypophobia. My family had a violent home invasion when I was eight years old that still affects the way I live my life. I am an introvert. I have a permanent wire behind my front teeth to keep them straight because they weren’t always. I struggled with alcoholism for almost two years. I have a heart condition and one knee that barely works. I get left out. I am embarrassed that my eyes are different and my ears are crooked and unmatched. I am deaf. I have nightmares more than not. I still get made fun of as an adult for my speech patterns and the way I talk. I feel like an outcast daily because of how I have to interact with people. I get teased for being in the background at events and gatherings. I am medicated for anxiety. I am in grief counseling. My children are abuse survivors. I am an abuse survivor. And as a grown man and father, I have been called meek and afraid by someone I dearly loved.
…And there is just the tail end of that ugly ass dog…Sorry, he goes where I go. SURPRISE!
I have a right to be private about my home. That is the one thing I leave myself in order to protect my children, when I choose to be open about everything else. Through all this, who I am has never changed. I value myself and others. I am not “a mess”. I am not weak. I am confident. I am quiet. Living with a purpose I finally feel I am fulfilling. I mess up a LOT, but make it a point to learn and be better each day. I may be done repeating immature and gross patterns in this life, but I still know what I want. That hasn’t changed either. And I’m trying to lay it out as much as I fucking can.
Oh…and I’m terrified of whales.