Today, I had several experiences which put me in mind of the phrase above, in that I was subtly reminded that experiencing negative or limiting self-consciousness is a learned response which all humans are capable of training themselves away from.
It was a slow day at work in the early part of my shift this morning, so I spent a few minutes entertaining myself by adorning my eyeglasses with Post-Its. It’s a silly sort of thing akin to a teenage writing or drawing on one’s jeans or body…something harmlessly expressive which temporarily alleviates boredom. Of course, once I’d done it, I kept it; one of the freedoms I greatly enjoy in my position is that of being whimsical without fear of reproach or discipline. Although some customers certainly seemed confused by this flourish, for the most part it was well-received, and I was given numerous bits of positive feedback.
When it came time for me to leave work, however, I was hit with a wave of uncertainty: was it time to strip off this silly appendage before mingling with the rest of the world? Did I want to subject myself to the slings and arrows of public opinion and judgement in such a way?
Ultimately, it took only moments for me to decide with resolve that of COURSE I’d leave my glasses as they were, and continue along with my day as if nothing were not as it should be. When all was said and done, I can’t say that the big bad outside world seemed much to care–or even notice–my whimsy; not at the sushi place where I had lunch, not at Safeway when I was picking up groceries, and not on the streets. In short, no big fucking deal.
In the late afternoon, I put in my contact lenses to go to yoga (hopefully no one reading this would wonder why glasses and yoga don’t really mix well). Midway through class, as I twisted myself into a shape with which I was as yet unfamiliar, I suddenly became very aware of myself…the fact that I was positioned at the head of the class, as it were (simply because I get quite hot rather easily, and the front of the room has a decent breeze of outside air coming in), meaning that everyone could see me struggling to find the position (or, perhaps even worse, in my mind: someone might see me doing it wrong but think I’m doing it properly just because I’m in front of everyone else, and then start doing it wrong themselves. Yes, these are the sort of fears I often obsess on)…reflexively, I had to laugh at myself, to remember that in situations like these, the worst judgement could only come from within.
Yet as I lay in shavasana at the end of class, I found my thoughts drifting back to these two times in my day when I was stricken by potent moments of self-consciousness. I vividly remembered, then, being a teenager and going to High School dressed in certain outlandish ways, simultaneously trying to provoke a response and daring anyone to say anything, while also feeling some inward part of myself cringe and beg, “why are you doing this? You’re going to be laughed at. People will say mean things. You shouldn’t express yourself like this.” Still, i persisted in leaning into that discomfort, pushing myself into a visibility and vulnerability which felt terrifying: I was training. I was faking it in the hopes that some day, I would make it.
These days, I look fairly outlandish by the standards of polite society. I have 13 piercings, and a lot of large, very brightly colored, and highly visible tattoos; I dress in ways which challenge gender roles and sexual taboos; I often paint my fingernails and/or wear makeup. I do all these things (and have been doing them) so regularly, for so long a time, that they’ve become second nature–I don’t ever stop to question myself. All that early self-training, all that faking it (when my insides were a hurricane of self-doubt and ingrained shame), led me to a life in which I can feel comfortable in my own skin.
I made it.
Today, I was given gentle reminders that this aspect of life is a continuing journey and not a bed of achievements in which one can rest. The process never really stops….but it does get much easier, the more that you do it.
Counterintuitively, it seems that sometimes you’ve got to be a fake if you want to be authentic.