On Being Genuine

Having worked in customer service for almost ten years, I had to learn how to put on a smile and pretend like everyone was my friend.  I treated rude, angry customers with respect and kindness, even though I would have loved nothing more than to turn my back and pretend they didn't exist.  Or, on the very rare occasion, I wished I could just strangle them.  But I did what I was trained to do: grin and bear it.

After leaving the world of customer service, I struggled with truly caring about the needs of others.  I didn't have to pretend anymore, so I'd become almost completely numb to those around me.  After I began mannying, I had to relearn how to care.  Did I really care if a kid's favorite color is blue?  Not at all.  But it mattered to the kid I was working with.  After a while, I learned that something as simple as the color blue can be especially important to children.  I had to learn to care about the color blue.  This led to me caring about favorite foods and animals, which led me to truly caring about the little individual I was spending so much time with.  I learned to look outside of myself and to genuinely love someone else.

I am now living in a studio apartment in Idaho.  It's just me and my cat.  The thing about the part of Idaho I'm in is that the majority of the population is of the same faith, myself included.  What I find interesting, though, is that I struggle finding genuine people.  I've been here for a little over three months, and I can count on one hand the number of people I feel comfortable turning to if I need help.  And guess what?  The first person that comes to mind isn't of my faith.

Weird, huh?

Even at my job as a middle school study hall teacher, I find that my most caring, genuine students are not of my faith.  In a community where everyone thinks and believes the same thing, it has become easy to put on a smile and pretend like everyone is your friend.  I have no idea why.  Maybe because everyone has the same beliefs, they're afraid to mess up.  So they don't exhibit their true selves, making the only genuine people in town the ones who believe differently.

So what can I do?

I wrote about putting myself out there in my last post.  I am continuing to do that, even though it's probably the hardest thing I've ever done.  I finally broke down this past Sunday.  I had an anxiety attack just thinking about going to church, where I am just a wallflower that no one notices.  I was half way to the church building when I turned myself around and went back to the apartment.

I promised myself I would never do that again.  I need to keep putting myself out there.

So when I saw a post on Facebook from a young couple from church looking for a ride to the airport, I offered to drive them.  I'll admit, I waited a couple of hours after seeing the post, hoping someone else would offer.  But after thinking about it, I realized that I shouldn't have hesitated.  I decided to put this young couple's needs over my own insecurities.  It felt good.  It felt genuine.  I honestly wouldn't have been surprised if no one else ever offered.  That's what it's like around here.  Well wishes and goodbyes, but not much in the way of serving others.

No genuine kindness.

I'm not about that life.  I am going to continue on in my journey to put myself out there and genuinely care for those around me.  No more fake smiles for me.

 

Putting Myself Out There

In the last week of August, I packed up all of my stuff and moved back to Idaho.  It was a long drive for just me and my cat, but I got to see some family and friends on the way.  On September 6, I moved into my studio apartment.  For the first time in my life, I was living by myself, with my closest family members about three hours away.  For the first time in my life, I was truly alone.

Before leaving Pennsylvania, I had been in therapy for about a year.  One of the big issues my therapist and I tackled was socializing, which, even now, is terrifying for me.  But I took all of my therapist's suggestions to heart, I practiced continuing conversations with people I already knew, and I felt good about meeting new people in Idaho.

I have been in Idaho for almost three months, now, and I have gone way out of my comfort zone putting myself out there for everyone to see.  I can't help but laugh at how putting myself out there looks so much different from other people putting themselves out there.

I attend church every Sunday.  I sit alone.  A few people talk to me.  I continue the conversation by asking follow up questions.  I am putting myself out there.

I attend church parties.  I sit alone.  A few people talk to me.  I continue the conversation by asking follow up questions.  I am putting myself out there.

I attend a class aimed towards people my age.  Everyone is much older.  I sit alone.  I am putting myself out there.

I eat lunch with my colleagues at work.  I'm not alone.  I join in on the conversation.  I laugh.  I am putting myself out there.

It doesn't look like much.  I know I could be doing a lot more, but I'm proud of the level of effort I'm currently putting into socializing and meeting new people.  I am way outside of my comfort zone even just thinking about conversing with others.  But I do it anyways.

The last three months have been lonely and difficult, but I continue to put myself out there.  One of these days, I will find deep and meaningful connections, but I have to keep trying.  I have to keep putting myself out there.