Dear Near Stranger,



When you meet me, and see how I act how I speak, please know that I am an odd bird.
Please know that I know I am an odd bird. And I am not saying that just as an excuse although I’ll say that I did warn you.
Please know that it has taken me a long time to come to terms with that idea, that I had been fighting it for so long, trying to convince myself–and others–that it isn’t true and I am ‘normal’ like everyone else.
Know that I have tried and tried not trying, and that each way felt like a Herculean effort (had to think about how to type that one, it should be Heraculean btw).
I have met people on the way who have made it easier to accept that, my self, in its unrefined.

Please know that it is far easier said than done to “just be yourself,” at least for me.
Just? Honey, maybe being is one thing, but having that accepted is entirely another and that has a cyclic effect on how much of “yourself” you are being.

“You want people who do accept you the way you are,” and darling that’s true.
But when you strike out 8-9/10 times out to bat, you’re going to rethink your strategy and if you’re a ballplayer to begin with.

But enough about the general ‘you’ and back to me. As I was saying,
Know that…
What else do I want you to know, near stranger?
That I check every reflection in reflex because most times my outside appearance is the only thing I feel I can control whereas my personality and mannerisms I cannot.

I don’t say all this in apology, I try to let that habit go (and realize that that statement and the other qualifiers present here suggest otherwise, but it’s a tectonic slow process). Rather I say it for your information, so before you may or may not dismiss me as someone you do not want to get to know, because of barriers that offput me to you, that you see a bit of what lay beyond.
So when you find yourself asking, “what is she doing?” “who is this chick?” know that, hell, I’m not quite sure either.
So: Hi, it’s nice to meet you. Maybe you’ll learn to say the same.