I reshared a post recently, but not here, as this is a share-free blog. It consisted of someone’s words on being afraid in public all the time, alone, embarrased, uncomfortable, terrified. Well, you know, I feel like that every day. Venturing out beneath the sunlight, every pair of eyes is a howling beast of inane questions about whether you’re good enough.
Good enough for what?
Good enough not to be mocked. Good enough to show your intelligence for a few fleeting seconds. Good enough not to trip over your feet or your words and fall into the social gutter of embarrassment and ridicule.
Do you look weird? Your eyes are funny. One leg is a little shorter than the other. You’re a hunchback, a midget. People think you’re a freak. You’re fat.
Or at least that’s what you remind yourself of every day as you step out of the door. And then you quickly attempt to deny it. But it’s too late, the thought has lodged deep. It’s going to gnaw all day while you try to take care of business, in public.
But then you’re happier in public, right? Happier with friends? It’s better than being alone. There’s that constant battle of wanting to be around people, wanting to actually spend time with great company and then when it comes to forming a real connection.. you’re dead on the line. You give them the engaged signal. If you even pick up.
But even if you don’t have a freakish appearance, you’re still afraid. What if someone sees you making a fool of yourself? How are you going to recover? How can you hold it together when someone might mock you simply for being yourself? You’ve been walking around in that mask so long, you can’t remember how to take it off, or how it felt before you put it on.
So we lock the doors and hide away in our own little cages, watching the world slip by while we timidly sit on the sidelines. One day we’ll step out into the sun and the world will see how amazing we all really are.