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Posts Tagged ‘self-reflection’

The truth is I don’t read or watch or listen to the news. It just makes me feel depressed and dumb.

The truth is I always thought as a parent I would savour tucking my kids in at night but I don’t. The truth is I actually hate it and by the end of the day I just want them to go to sleep already.

The truth is I generally judge all books by their covers. The truth is I generally judge everything by its cover.

The truth is I could eat breakfast for every meal.

The truth is the greatest sense of accomplishment I’ve felt in the last six months is passing level 37 of Candy Crush.

The truth is I don’t really care how my hair looks, as you can probably tell when you see how my hair looks.

The truth is I judge people by the books they read and the TV shows they watch.

The truth is my favourite aisle at Walmart is the one with all of the plastic containers.  It makes me want to put everything I own in a plastic container.

The truth is I eat more chocolate than I should.

The truth is I used to care ‎what my linen closet looked like; I used to care what other people thought my linen closet looked like.  The truth is I don’t care any more and to prove it, here is what my linen closet looks like.

Don't tell Martha

Don’t tell Martha

The truth is ‎I just pretend to know what the word Zeitgeist means.

‎The truth is I generally prefer books to people.

The truth is ‎I’m horrible with directions or spatial awareness of any kind. The truth is I almost always get lost in parking garages.

The truth is my motherhood idol is Amy Duncan from Good Luck Charlie.

The truth is I usually decide within five minutes of meeting someone whether we’re going to be friends or not. The truth is even when I probably could change my mind about my initial impression, I usually don’t.

The truth is sometimes I run the dryer over and over after the clothes are already dry because I don’t feel like folding them.

The truth is, it’s nice to have somewhere to share my truths.

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‎As a general rule I try not to spend too much time contemplating what other people think about me. I would like to say that it’s because I’m particularly well evolved but, to be perfectly honest, it’s generally because I spend altogether too much time trying to figure out what I think about myself and it doesn’t leave much time for anything else.

So I fumble my way through things, assuming that people see me the same way I see myself. I assume they can see that I get scared sometimes and shy sometimes and silly sometimes and that I basically have no idea what I’m doing most of the time.

I assume that when I stand quietly, just outside the borders of the group, that they know it’s because I can’t find the words to make my way into the conversation and that it’s not because I’m aloof or stuck up.

I assume that when I don’t notice a new hair cut or a new sweater or five pounds now gone, they know it’s because I think they are beautiful before, now and in the future, and not because I don’t care.

I assume that when I’m curt or short or frank in my conversations that they know it’s because I’m feeling insecure and out of my element, not because of something they said or did to anger me.

I have gone through most of my life assuming these things; assuming that everyone else sees what I see. I assume they see me.

More and more though I’m beginning to question my assumptions; and the beliefs I’ve built on top of them.

How wide is the divide between what they see and what I see? And which vision holds the reality of who I am? Is it what they see, or what I see, or is it somewhere in the middle?

And if they don’t see me, the “real” me, is that their problem or mine? Does it mean I didn’t show them what’s on the inside, or does it mean they never asked to see it‎? Do I have a responsibility to ensure people have a true view of me, or do they have a responsibility to seek it out?

Obviously I don’t know or I wouldn’t be asking the questions. ‎But now that I have asked them, now that they have taken up residence in my head, I can’t seem to get rid of them. I sit across the table from a friend, a family member, and I wonder what they think of me. I wonder what they would say if I ask them.

But I know I won’t ask because I know, quite honestly, that I don’t want to know. Because once I know what they think I won’t be able to separate it from what I think. I know that when I look in the mirror I would no longer be able to see what I see, I would only be able to see what they see.

And if I’m only going to believe one version of myself, I would rather it be my own. For better or worse.

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