Hello there. It's nice to meet you, or at least it should be if I don't get in the way of it!

But it's the first impressions complex, isn't it? The "This person seems really cool, I want them to like me, I'm gonna show them only my best and nothing of any kind else" type of deal? When I as a human being find someone who I consider to be a kindred spirit and friend goal, I immediately evaluate everything about myself and shove down what I consider to be not cool enough, excessively odd, unnecessarily quirky, and things of that nature. I was already my harshest critic, but in the crucial first few minutes of introductions to new people? I tear myself to shreds.

I tend to think that I am not enough. That if a person knew the real me, they'd want nothing to do with me. So my main objective often seems to be "How can I seem like everyone else?" I never know what people will or won't accept, and to think that something important to me could be dashed to pieces by the words of another person is too difficult to imagine. I hide. I fabricate. I hope for the best.

And people can really be the best.

Despite my irrationality's firmest attempts to convince me that I can't be me, the friends I have found (who are all definitely way out of my league in terms of friendship but somehow they're still friends with me and I'm just super lucky, just throwing that out there) make it their mission to coax me out of my shell, connect with me on my oddities, embrace my quirks, and herald my supposed lack of "coolness" as a triumph in the best ways. They remind me constantly that it is the real me they want to know and cherish. They help me to understand that I'm human and that mistakes happen, but they tell me every day that my limits are often only in my head. They keep me going and love me beyond any words I could ever use to thank them.

Which begs the unfortunate question: why am I sometimes still afraid to be me?

First introduction jitters and unfortunate self-fabrication pop up all the time. It can be nerve-wracking meeting the amazing people to whom you truly want to talk and give your time. But I have oftentimes made the mistake of allowing those jitters to turn into uncontainable fears that run rampant in my head. I will purposefully maintain my distance because I fear being too clingy, and while on the outskirts of the life of someone I love, I will agonize over whether or not I am with them enough. Too much. In between in a bad way. I detrimentally influence my own relationships because I am afraid that being real is wrong. I'm afraid everything I inherently am is wrong.

And in thinking that, I am wrong.

I am exactly the person that I am supposed to be. There are no what ifs; I am living and leading the life I am supposed to guided by the Lord. I love it when the people I care about show me their true selves, their lives and their loves and their passions and their quirks. I love getting to the heart of people, and I am coming to realize that withholding those parts of myself is selfish towards the very people I would give just about anything to see happy.

When I tiptoe around, I show everyone the falsest side of me that I can muster. I water down myself until I look like a vague copy of the blandest parts of other personalities. I never connect with people at the heart because I'm too busy focusing on the surface. But when I lay down my pride enough to show people the real me, that's when I find real relationships.

It's a trade-off. Friendships are give and take. I can't ask for the truth of another person and keep all of mine to myself. And I don't want to do so! I want to be real. I want to be honest with myself about myself and honest with other people about the way I am. I want to give my genuine, bona fide self to other people without being afraid of doing so or being afraid to tell them how deeply I value their friendship or even being afraid to ask them to hang out. Not every friendship works - that's what makes the real ones worth having.

It's about time to be real. Gonna take some convincing, but hey, I've got to start somewhere. Might as well be right here and right now. It's time to be me.