Awkward: An Acquired Taste

I'm awkward and not in the charming way. I get nervous and repeat myself too much. I fumble and never know what to do with my hands. I can't look you in the eyes when I talk because I have to concentrate on what I want to say. I'm not good with conversation in person because all the words get jumbled up in my mouth. But my fingers seem to get it right. Even when I'm punch drunk I can be coherent in writing. My pen knows how to talk to my head whereas my lips can never get across what I'm thinking. 

And what I'm thinking is that maybe it's OK that I will never be able to mingle at a party with a bunch of strangers. Maybe it's better for me that I will never be proficient at small talk. Because no, I don't want to know your major. I want to know your favorite sin. No, I don't want to know how your classes or your job is. I want to know how your soul is managing. 

I may not be the most... Comfortable person to be around. But I sure as hell am entertaining.  Awkward is an acquired taste. With time, I'm sure I can show you how to enjoy it. 

Naked is OK

            We don’t like to see other people exposed. It’s offensive to be nude. Physically or emotionally. When they ask, “how are you” they don’t want to hear the gritty details. They want to hear how well you are or that you’re doing just fine. The shorter the answer the better. Because candor throws them off. The unfiltered self makes people uncomfortable. Sadness is a sin. So we clothe our nudity with facades made up of generic happiness.

            But I want to see you strip down to your skivvies and be proud of your clumsy truth. And I want to undress myself and show you my brazen awkwardness. Small talk happens too much and life stories are told too little. Cut the bullshit. Tell me who you are. We guard ourselves to the point where we become insecure about insecurities.

            I used to think I had to fit this mold of political correctness. I used to refrain my personality so everyone else could be comfortable. I spent too much of my time being mindful and putting my needs behind others. I molded myself into a lump of formalities trained to reply with neutrality. My thoughts, my feelings, my own mind became alien to me. I lost myself because, until now, I never lived for myself.

            Living for oneself is not selfish. It’s needed. To be unapologetically exposed at all times should not be taboo. It should not be brave to be unashamed of your insecurities or to wear your heart on your sleeve.  

Naked is OK.