How many times have our communities, as well as society as a whole, drilled us on the concept of a “first impression” and what constitutes a “good” first impression? How often have we been presented with the seemingly always-expanding list of “do's and don'ts” when meeting someone for the first time? Do dress in a certain way. Don’t exhibit a certain behavior. At times, this list may seem imposing or intimidating. Like it or not, your first impression can have quite the impact on how others perceive you. While it is certainly true that not all first impressions are correct, the fact of the matter is that first impressions are often long-lasting, despite how accurate they may or may not be.

Considering the impact that a first impression can have on your image, no wonder the very concept of this phenomenon can be daunting. Many of us already have a specific image of ourselves that we want our first impressions to convey. Sometimes, this image is translated successfully. Other times, it is not, and we are left to deal with the awkwardness, not to mention the task of attempting to alter our unwanted image in subsequent meetings.

However, some people have an entirely different dilemma, which can be just as intimidating: not knowing what image of yourself you want to convey in the first place. In this situation, the burning question is “How do I want to present myself?” and in trying to answer this, one may end up questioning their own identity.

Questioning your identity can be terrifying in any context. For some people, their identity struggle lies within their questioning of gender and sexuality. Others may question what religious or spiritual framework, if any, fits them. Someone who had a traumatic experience in the past may be struggling with whether they identify as a “victim” of whatever happened to them. All of these examples of identity questioning are valid. However, there is one example in particular that I would like to focus on. While it is biased in the fact that it stems from my own personal experience, I believe that it is something worth writing about. Besides, who knows- perhaps someone with a similar issue will be able to relate, or maybe someone who can’t relate personally with my own struggles will get to view them from an outsider’s perspective and learn something new.

As a new college student, I know that over the next few months, I will be meeting several people for the first time, people who have the potential to become new friends, colleagues, mentors, and so on. The pressure of a good first impression feels greater than it did in high school, and no wonder- for the first time in my life, I am establishing myself as an adult, and whatever image I present of myself now has the potential to affect my future, not only in education but in whatever field I choose to enter after my time at university. I need to show others how I am responsible, dedicated, and hardworking. However, I also need to be able to present myself in a way that ensures people will be able to understand me and how I function as a person.

Some clarification: at 17, I was diagnosed with scrupulosity, which is a form of obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD) that focuses on religion and/or morality. In addition, I was diagnosed with an anxiety disorder and depression. As cliché as it sounds, my entire world was shaken to its core. I felt as if my old self had passed away, and now I was someone new- someone I didn’t know. It was, in a word, terrifying.

Fast-forward to now, about a year and a half later. In the time that’s passed, I have been building up a foundation for the “new” me, and I have to say, it’s been going well. I look back at my “old” self and see how much self-hatred I had, and today, I am making a point of trying to love myself more, to be more forgiving, and so forth.

However, despite the foundation I have been building, I still find myself struggling when it comes to creating and presenting my own image.

“How do I want to present myself?”

It’s a tough question, especially when considering my disorders. Whether I like it or not, my OCD, anxiety disorder, and depression have become a huge part of my life. To clarify, this does not mean that my disorders are literally a part of me. They are not. They exist outside of me, and are things that I deal with, not things that I am. Despite this, the fact that I deal with them has become a part of my identity in a sense. I am an individual who struggles with OCD, anxiety, and depression, and one of the issues I am currently dealing with is my internal debate over whether to introduce people to this side of me, especially during a first impression.

On the one hand, there’s the stigma that goes along with mental health. Do I want someone’s first impression of me to be that I am “crazy” (which, by the way, is not an adjective you should be using when discussing mental health)? Do I really want someone to assume things about me right off the bat, saying things like “Oh, so you hate germs then?” or “Wow, I bet you clean your house, like, every day”? Do I want people to think of me as “the OCD girl”? The answer to these questions is, of course, no. I don’t want someone to assume I am my disorders. Like I said before, I am not made of my disorders, nor do they define me. I am a human being who just happens to deal with them. However, many people don’t realize this. Stigma is a powerful thing, and many people would probably tell me that if I want to have a successful future, then I should keep quiet about my disorders, or simply hide them.

Yet, at the same time, I find myself increasingly wanting to reveal to people that I have these disorders, especially if I am just beginning to form a relationship with someone. Why do I want to do this? Am I an “attention hog”? Do I “want to scare people away”?

No. I want to be honest with people.

Over the past few years, I have come to value honesty in relationships. I think that honesty is one of the most important things you can have in a relationship, no matter what type of relationship it is. If I am going to form a relationship with you, then I am going to come to value your presence in my life, and if I value you, then I want you to know right off the bat: sometimes, I’m not going to be okay. Sometimes, I will be stuck in an argument with my own brain, possibly for hours. Sometimes, I’m going to be feeling really down. Sometimes, I’m going to worry about things that may not seem worrying or troublesome at all to you. I am not telling you this to frighten you, or to make you feel bad for me. I am telling you this because if you are going to hold a valuable position in my life (whether as a friend, a mentor, a boyfriend, etc.), then I think you have a right to know. I want our relationship, whatever type of relationship it is, to be honest. I want you to know that if I do something that may seem odd or hurtful, I don’t mean for it to come across that way. I don’t want to give you the wrong idea about who I am, and I definitely don’t want to accidentally hurt you. I want to build a good, solid relationship with you, and if I’m going to do that, then you need to know that I deal with these disorders.

Like I mentioned earlier, I am a freshman in college. Earlier this week, I opened up to my roommate about my OCD, my anxiety, and my depression. I did this for several reasons, the most obvious one being that this person is going to be living in the same space as me for an entire school year. You just can’t be dishonest with someone whose bed is four feet or so away from yours. However, I also just wanted to be honest with her, plain and simple. We haven’t known each other for very long, but our friendship has started off well, and I value it, and her, enough to be honest this early on. I’m glad I did it. Not only can I be fully comfortable being myself around her now, but her kindness and understanding about it have made me feel so much better about myself, and have inspired me to continue being open and honest with people about my disorders.

It is true that revealing this part of myself to someone comes with risks. Like I said before, there is a stigma surrounding mental health, and it is strong. However, I’m starting to believe that the honesty that comes from sharing something like this is worth the weird looks I may get once in a while. After all, as the saying goes, “Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind.”