My Real Self

She's the office jokester, the class brain, the short, funny-faced girl with the geek glasses and red Converses.

People think she's a little quirky - she loves to perch on desks and tell stories, sends pictures of Darth Vader to her coworkers while she's on the clock, and has been caught blasting rock music in her cubicle when she thinks the office is empty. Yet when the time comes for her to hitch up her backpack and head out, the work is always done and neatly stacked on her desk.

She loves to talk, about anything and everything, from the most serious of events in your life, to the silliest fluff that she found on the Internet. She knows all the answers in class and is usually the one to start all the discussions - she positively dominates her Spanish class, as long as she's had the right amount of caffeine. People marvel at how much she gets done - despite having multiple jobs and being over the limit for how many credit hours she's allowed to take in one semester, she always seems to have time to talk with her friends, work ten extra minutes, or explain the latest homework assignment. They're not sure if it comes from her ubiquitous jug of sweet tea or just her ebullient personality.

***

That doesn't sound much like me, does it?

No, it doesn't. And yet I tell you the truth: That is me, at least the "me" that most people know. That is the costume that I put on every morning when I walk out of the house, and step out of with relief as soon as I walk back in the door.

Someone asked me this week how I was able to have so many friends and be so well-liked by people, which I do seem to be; and after thinking about it, I realized what the answer had to be - because I act like a chatty, bubbly extrovert when I'm with them, talking my head off, using uptalk and vocal fry, and perpetuating my reputation as a geeky, endearingly childish, but hard-working and smart dork.

And then I wondered - what would happen to all of these friends if I decided to be my real self for a day?

What would happen if I started doing, making, and talking about the things that were really important to me, instead of covering myself up and pretending to be something I'm not? What if I went out one day and was the real me - quiet, sad, peaceful, artistic, and curious - instead of being loud and funny? What if I really admitted that I was feeling little and vulnerable and alone, instead of boisterously pretending that life was peachy?

I don't think most of my friends, chatty extroverts that they are, would probably want to be friends with me anymore. Compared to how sparkly and vivacious they all are, I seem very flat and misty gray.

 ***

It's very draining to pretend to be someone you're not all day. I was discussing recently with some INFP friends that when I don't get enough recharge time during the week - time to listen to sad music, to sleep, to walk outside, and to be quiet and serious for a while - then I become physically ill, with things like body aches and upset stomach, like I've had today. (I know that happens to lots of people; I'm not trying to do the INFP I'm-more-special-than-anyone-in-the-world thing!) This week has been especially difficult for me - it's been very productive and successful, but I've been spending many more hours than normal in my phony persona, and it's been taking its toll on my body and my mood. I look and feel awful.

As I spend more and more time with my friends and become more and more immersed in the world, I feel myself drifting further and further into a mist of lostness, like I'm just hanging onto the Lord with my fingertips. In denying my earthly personality, the way God made me, I am opening the door to also stifle my identity as a sanctified daughter of God. When I deny myself the chance to be quiet, then I deny myself the chance to pray; when I let myself get pulled by my friends into Benedict Cumberbatch and pop music and interpersonal drama, I let myself get pulled into distraction, fruitlessness, and wrong thoughts and actions.

I need to change. I need to be the way God made me, both in terms of my personality and in terms of my identity and my sanctification as a Christian. But do I dare get up tomorrow and be my real self? How can I, when everyone already knows me as the mouthy geek girl? What would happen if I let the veil fall away from my face for one day and let people see inside it? Would it be as awful as I think it would? Or could it possibly be the answer to all my problems?

Confusedly,
Vicki