I love it when people make me think. And I love it when these conversations seemingly come from nowhere. I am blessed in the way that I have so many people in my life that energize and inspire me…and I feel even more blessed when this comes in ways I least expect it.

A conversation arose last week at work about how relationships and dating have changed over the years-from my generation of “old-fashioned” dating to the various apps and assorted “hook ups” that happen in this day and age. From this conversation, I had made the comment that I would be fearful of entering the dating zone being the “way that I am”. When I was pressed from my co-worker about what that meant I replied “I’m scared of everything so I would just prefer to stay home”. Immediately I was called out on it…affectionately, yet pointedly. Apparently, I am indeed not thought of as a “fearful” person-or someone timid of entering new situations. The call-out was followed by a list of examples of ways in which this person based their opinion. And all of it was true from what they knew of me. They cited things like starting new jobs over the years, changing relationships, travelling-even sharing a blog. As they spoke, I became increasingly more uncomfortable because I realized this was all true- I had been so quick to describe myself in one way. Yet I am not what I described at all. Actually, I am probably the complete opposite.

So I do what I do best and thought a lot about this exchange. Why would I jump to say something about myself that just simply wasn’t true? And the more I thought about it, the more uncomfortable it became. But not the bad uncomfortable when you want to bury it and pretend it never happened. The kind of discomfort that you can’t look away from because you know this is a small moment of truth. Or maybe a big one.

I grew up in an intensely toxic home. My parents loved me in their own way however, like many other parents, had a large load of baggage from their childhoods that they had not yet unpacked. Because of this, I learned from an extremely young age how to “read” cues and behave accordingly. My parents happiness and pride in me was my ultimate goal. I did not develop a healthy sense of self independent from them because my growing years consisted of shape-shifting into whatever they needed or wanted at the time. So, really, I grew up and had no idea who I was. But I did develop certain skills.

I knew how to read a room. I knew how to size people up very quickly and give them what they wanted in terms of conversation. I learned how to pick up emotional cues very quickly. And I knew that it was much easier to mold myself into a person that possessed the acceptable “nice” qualities of being human in order to be likeable. So, really, I just became a good sales woman. But what I was selling was just some fabricated person that I thought “people” wanted. I did not know who I was…I only knew what I thought I should be to please those “people”.

And that’s why I reverted so quickly to that habit of offering to the conversation what I thought was an acceptable or nice comment about the way that I am. “Oh no…I couldn’t go out into the world to begin dating…I would be too scared”.

And the lie detector test determined that was a lie. I actually have been sitting on a throne of lies as Buddy The Elf would say. In reality, those lies are just coping mechanisms developed during childhood in an attempt to preserve some sort of peace in my heart and head. The honest answer is that I would not be afraid to date at all. I just don’t want to. In my head though, at the time, I didn’t think that sounded like a very “pretty” answer.

I learned three things from this conversation last week:

1. I am so thankful to have people in my life to call me out when I need it
2. Ineffective coping mechanisms are terribly hard to break
3. At 46 years old I am just starting to get to know me

I remember being asked to do an introspective writing piece for a meditation course I was taking. The crux of it was being able to identify where you are “faking it” in your life. I love writing but it was the most horrible assignment I’ve ever undertaken. The finished product was “faker” than all the ways that I had been “faking it”. I never understood why that caused me so much angst until all of this bubbled up last week.

I had faked it my whole life-not in just one area. I was someone who was made of other people’s wants and desires. To write anything on that would be such a daunting task because it comprised most areas of my life. Which is why I couldn’t do it effectively. And I was so disappointed with how unfulfilling the exercise was. None of it was me.

So that is why I am so thankful to the people that do “see” me now. Because it gives me the chance to “see” myself through their eyes at first…then my own.