Quitting (Or, the Difficulty of Opposites)

I don't like to be in the way. 

Given the option, I'll sit in the smallest corner and look out the window and hope no one needs to use the outlet beside me. Actually, given the option, I'll take the second smallest corner if it isn't near the door and doesn't have an outlet. I wouldn't want to inconvenience anyone. I just don't want to be a distraction, you know? I'll walk around on tiptoes and set things down as gently as possible so that no one is bothered by my noise. Really, I just don't want to be in the way.

Maybe I just really don't want to draw attention to myself. But then, I know that can't be right, because I say things and do things that are just attention-getting. I mean, I have a job that routinely requires me to stand up in front of a group of people and talk about outer space, and even though I'm not the reason they scheduled the visit, I still make sure to wear socks that don't match, so they notice me. I talk loudly and quickly, so that you hear me and you have to focus. But then, I also got glasses to hide behind, and wear bland clothes, and prefer sitting in a corner by myself to sitting at a table with fifteen other people.

Part of that is being an introvert, and I don't like the idea that there's something wrong with preferring time to yourself or needing to recharge if you've been with other people too long. I think we live in a society of extroverts that favors those who would speak up for themselves and it bothers me that those who would think for themselves are brushed aside for lack of vocality. But I can't soapbox my way out of everything. Part of the difficulties I have in life spring from a lack of confidence in myself, which is too big a problem to deal with when you're perpetually fighting to keep your head above water in the sea of constant human contact.

I've really been convicted of my lack of confidence lately and I think that conviction is important because it reminds me that I'm not who I used to be. The lack of confidence comes from this need to have people like me and knowing that I don't measure up to their standards. I don't always dress in well-fitting clothes. My hair is not always done up. I don't always make it to the earring selection time of the morning and I rarely get beyond that to the makeup time of the morning. I have too much fat in too many places and too ugly of a face to be intrinsically pretty by society's standards. I have one of those faces that is just pretty enough to make me think kindly of myself until I catch a sideways glimpse in the mirror or see a particularly unflattering picture. Say what you want, but I will never walk in a room and be the prettiest girl in the room. Mix in a surprisingly large amount of social awkwardness, and you get the last few years of my life: realizing that I'm not the amazing person I thought I was and standing too long out in a rainstorm of self-doubt and self-depreciation. Add a major that regularly called my intelligence into question and it's no wonder I lack confidence.

But the thing is, I'm supposed to have the confidence regardless of what people think of me. I have infinite worth in the eyes of God just for being a human, a creation of his hands, and that is supposed to be an unshakable confidence. The Maker of the Universe loves me and calls me daughter- how can the state of my clothes or the size of my eyes matter?

That's the crux of the matter for me. Living into my God-given birthright became so much harder when I realized there was value in what other people said too. I had to trade in my old thoughts, what I knew, before I could get new ones. And what new thoughts! There's beauty in many things that were never intended by their authors to reflect the glory of God. There are songs that weren't written for churches that express the desires of my soul. There are good thoughts and deeds happening outside the boundaries of the people of Christ and it's not even hard to find them. And I don't want to have to cherry pick. I want to love humanity in all of its messy wonderfulness, encircle it with my arms and love it for the good. But we're an occasionally messed-up bunch and hugging humanity can mean that you get stabbed by barbs as often as not.

So while I want to hold on to these thoughts of beauty, I can't get away from the barbs that cut in, from the judgmental looks that say that you don't measure up to my standard of beauty or you don't like the things I like or you don't laugh at the things that I laugh at. Those looks knock you down, especially when they come from someone who has brought beauty into your life. When those barbs are cutting into you, it's so hard to keep yourself together. It's hard to look at yourself in a positive light. The idea of being fearfully and wonderfully made is a joke in the red tinged light the barbs bring with them. Between that and questions of purpose and path and justice and fairness, my confidence never had a chance. It's hard enough to wake up in the morning and battle the demons of doubt, apathy, and anthropophobia. I can't fight for my confidence as well. It's just easier to give up and live another day among the incurably meek.

I say all this so that people who never think that they're in the way understand what it's like to be someone who always prefers being out of the way. That's the thing about introverts and extroverts, or any pair of different-thinking types of people: it's beyond difficult to get the opposite team to understand the way you think. And even if they do, it's hard to get them to understand the depths of your feeling. To get up every day and say I'm going to be confident in who I am? That's a tiring thought. To get up every day and express that confidence in ways that everyone will see without being found prideful or objectionable? Impossible. There's always going to be someone who thinks you're wrong, who is opposed to your viewpoint, or doesn't understand why your viewpoint has to be expressed that way. People will think you're too political, or not political enough. People will shake their heads sadly at your ideals or frown at your lack of action. When you get entrenched, people will mistake your olive branch for a barb. And even if none of these things ever happen, there's the possibility of drawing this hatred to yourself just by being you, which is a scary thing for someone who doesn't like to be in the way.

I agree that a change has to come for me, because, like most people, I can't always go on the way I am. I understand that people can be wrong and that there often needs to be a voice of reason brought into their worlds so they can move into a better place. But I don't need another ladder tossed into my hole in the ground- I need someone to remind me that I can climb it and that the climb is worth it. I have promises that it is, but promises aren't guarantees. I can't move for a promise.