The Task of Being Loved

Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to be loved? After the discovery this summer that much of what I first present to the world is a performance/mask, I have been putting a lot of energy to present an authentic self to the world for better or worse. I've been delighted to discover it takes a little LESS energy to do that as opposed to presenting the mask. Hooray.

So I've been reflecting on why it is so hard for me to be loved. I know without a doubt in the world that my family loves me and always has. It's all the others. The rest of the world that causes me great doubt.

So it was especially interesting for me to revisit my high school. In many ways, this first real community of people who's opinion I cared about (though it most likely started in middle school). In that place, I felt like next to nothing. I wasn't part of the popular crowd. I didn't get asked to parties. I didn't sit with the cool kids in the circle. I had my few people and I knew they loved me. I told myself that the rest of them didn't matter but I assure you it hurt every time I heard about another party or event I had missed out on. I hurt every time that group cracked up in laughter at an inside joke that I didn't get. I didn't really like high school.

Theater was one of the redeeming things for much of the time. That sort of fell apart senior year, though. One of my best friends and I essentially had a falling out. My other best friend was off at college already. Both of the boys I liked were dating other girls. Let's just say I was ready to go to college...

College, then, was a chance to "reinvent" myself. I was embraced by all these fabulously nerdy friends in my honors program. We had beautifully silly deep conversations about God, we fought over politics, we bonded over movies and music. Still, I felt like I should know more politics, more culture, more literature, MORE. How had I not heard of THAT movie? Read THAT book? Why didn't I know who the ruler of that country was? I was behind intellectually. THAT sucked.

I'm sure that was part of the reason I took a year off before going onto seminary. Took time to decide just who I was. I started working at the coffee shop and met people that I adored. They even liked me. We got along smashingly. We buckled over in laughter. Had heaps of inside jokes. It was bliss. It was my place.

Still, due in part of the outgoing nature of the barista position, my coworkers got worried when I wasn't that bubbly. What was wrong? I remember one particular day when I was feeling neither depressed nor bubbly and was simply mellow. Everyone asked me what was wrong. I knew then that something WAS wrong if I couldn't be NOT chipper for a day without causing a stir.

Seminary was next. I was worried before I even got here that this would be a place of snobby do gooders who never drank, swore, or moved a toe out of line. I am happy to report to my bliss and ongoing relief that this place is filled with humans like me. People who are struggling through their own stuff. People who are real. Tragically, I still pretty much only knew how to be chipper, bubbly, susie sunshine. I was presenting what I thought people wanted.

This is a good moment to add an aside. All along I've had amazing friends that have gotten past that surface level and in many ways, they have saved me. Accepted me. Loved me.

But, CPE happened. It challenged all the ways I was presenting a mask, giving a performance, or trying to be what I thought everyone wanted me to be (including what I thought I SHOULD be). It was a really, really hard lesson. See my post in the midst of it? This one? Yeah, that was heart open honesty right there.

And in a sense, I've been trying to keep my heart that open (that raw?). Loving the intricacies that make up me. The randomness. The silliness. The seriousness. The sarcasm. The holy. The profane. The writer. The singer. The bum. The go getter. The child of God.

Still, I find it remarkable when others like me, want to be around me, love me. So abundantly blessed that I just shake my head and wonder why.

Think God's trying to tell me something??