Through a Glass Darkly

I've written twice lately about wishing I could know how someone else saw me. It's certainly not a new speculation. It is probably a common to all social creatures. We have to analyze how we fit into our society. Or maybe I'm just egocentric. I can't say narcissistic, given that I tend to assume people have less-than-ideal opinions of me. 

Turns out, maybe they didn't?

I saw myself as awkward and frumpy, and very immature compared to the older friends around me. I was the tagalong kid sister type that the others put up with. I had a strange combination of cynicism and naivety and an off-putting lack of social savvy. I had spent my high school years just trying to survive; I didn't have the same socialization as my peers, my worries different, my priorities skewed. College was when I came alive, but I had a lot to learn, socially.

When it came to my appearance, I felt what I might compare to imposter syndrome. Makeup and stylish clothing made me feel like a child raiding her older sister's closet, borrowed feathers, so to speak. I saw myself as plain at best, awkward in my own skin, uncomfortable with the shape of my body. Far from seeking admiration, I felt better being invisible.

Because I could never see myself clearly, I struggled to understand others' intentions regarding me.

I had trouble trusting friendship. I just assumed that other's friendly gestures were empty performances. I had iron walls between me and casual comradery. I hated small talk and new faces. It is a strange concept to me, now, going into social interactions expecting to be rejected. Yet, that was my reality.

I hid my feelings from everyone. (Well, everyone except Tarythe and Ted, who could and can read me like a book.) I would freeze when faced with a situation I didn't anticipate or one where I felt out of my depth. I was not emotionally impulsive and reactions did not come organically. The bigger the feeling, the more time it took me to process, and the tighter the reins I felt against showing it.

It took me a long time to develop true friendships with others, to trust their affection for me and to show my affection for them.

I certainly never believed anyone had romantic feelings for me. Jon cuddled with everyone, so I'd heard. Bryan charmed everyone. Jared flirted with everyone, or at least everyone flirted with him. I could not see myself as an exception, or even worthy of one. I was nothing special and thus dismissed any positive attention as meaningless. Never mind the fact that I didn't actually observe them treating everyone else like that; I just assumed.

I wish I could hear their sides. 

Acknowledging my own bad behavior with Jon, I want to know how the story looks from his point of view. My curiosity is such that I would willingly hear how I went from princess to villain in his tale. 

With Bryan, I always thought there was no attraction on his part. I simply couldn't fathom it. As Tarythe described it, liking Bryan was like having a celebrity crush. Thus, I was at a loss to explain his actions or to know how to act in turn.

With Jared, I thought he had feelings for me. Hoped he did. He gave all the signs, but he never made a move. I blamed myself for being too hard to read, not encouraging enough, but maybe, instead, I had read him all wrong. Maybe to him I was only ever just a friend.

I clearly had zero ability to tell how people saw me or felt about me. I wish I could go back and ask them. Just so I could flesh out the memory in my mind. But how awkward would that be? Hey, did you have feelings for me 20 years ago? Ha!

Maybe that's why I actually managed a relationship with Kevin even back then. He used his words, and I clearly needed it spelled out, literally. He told me how he saw me and how he felt, and I was able to do the same thing. We fell in love over email. 

I do wish, however, that I had seen myself a little more clearly earlier. Perhaps I would have seen others better, too, and believed what they showed me about themselves and not just what they said.