Greetings all from a very smiley working girl.
My day at the office was filled with newspapers from 1941, mysterious time capsule discoveries, and photos of babies sleeping in linen drawers. I charged into the afternoon with a quiet lunch at grandma's house and had some cute conversations with co-workers before the clock struck weekend o'clock.
I spent a lot of time this week thinking about how people in my life experience Kelsey Dallas.
Though it'd be easy to blame this contemplation on the fact that a good friend suggested that I was from an alien planet, I truly have always been a girl intrigued by the idea that every single person views my actions from a different perspective.
You see, last night one of my friends told me that I was one of the strongest women he knew. Pretty big compliment, right? Well instead of humbly thanking him and moving back into the rhythm of conversation, I started panicking about just how strong he could possibly think I am. And just how I was supposed to continue this facade of strength that I had haphazardly stumbled on to.
Within the last three years I've done a lot better in tackling the difficult task of being myself. Now whether or not that means I've taking up residency on the aforementioned alien planet you'd have to judge for yourself.
But the fact remains that I pride myself on loving who I am, and not being afraid to show it in the oddest of circumstances. I try to surround myself with people who can handle the big picture instead of only wanting me at my peak of social acceptability.
And yet for some reason I'm scared to death of the conclusions people draw after seeing the real me day after day.
It might be partially because I'm a fluid person and hate being pigeonholed, but it's more because drawing a picture of someone up in your mind is an invitation to be disappointed.
And I hate disappointing the people I love.
So if I'm supposed to be an example of a strong woman, how are you supposed to feel when I mention the time I burst into tears just calling the hospital to wish my grandma a happy birthday. Or my current fear of visiting my grandpa in his stupor of dementia.
I want to be loved but I don't want to be idealized. I want to be trusted but I want to be expected to make some mistakes. I want to be the perfect friend to you but I'll always have flaws.
And mostly I just want to know that I have earned a place in your life, but not why you've decided to keep me around.
Because the minute I know I start wondering if I can possibly continue being the Kelsey you need me to be.
I emphasize again that I'm not out in the world jumping between personalities to fit my different niches. I am naturally evolving into what I feel are better and better versions of myself.
But there's always going to be a piece of me that worries about about how your friendship dictionary defines me.
So please do be my friend. But remember that for every hour I've spent working toward my admirable report card, I've spent about 3 hours watching trashy TV shows. For every meaningful conversation I've taken the time to participate in, I've spent an entire night wasting time on Facebook chat. And for every time you've thought to yourself that I'm strong, there's been a moment when I cried entirely selfish tears.
And here's a thought from one of my bosses:
"What are you listening to in there? Justin Bieber?"
Peace, love and personal philosophies.