Me, myself, and I

I remember leaving the house as a child.  My mother always seemed to lick her finger and wipe something I had no idea was there, off my face.  Then she would follow me to the door exhorting me to be careful, watch out for cars and be good.

She never said, "Don't worry about the dogs.  They won't hurt you."  That was usually my main concern, loose dogs that would charge out at me barking. Tails wagging or not they terrified me and I was known for walking blocks out of my way to avoid them.

While I was walking those extra blocks I would ponder how I was going to be good.  It seemed there were different expectations depending on where I was going.

Sometimes I thought I was supposed to look smart.  Smarter than I really thought I was so that was a strain.  Other times I thought I should look pretty and that was something I was fairly confident I was not, so that was an even bigger concern.  A few places I needed to exhibit some kind of skill like piano playing, or reading out loud, or knowing the Girl Scout Laws, those were the worst.

One constant was that I could never just be me.  I knew I had to put on some kind of facade to make myself acceptable.

I was just a bunch of veneers glued together to please other people.

This has been such a normal part of my life that it came as a shock when I realized I will soon be going on a trip where I don't have to worry about who I am.  I will just be myself, the person I live with day in and day out.  The person who would rather live alone than face the strain of trying to please others all the time.

I am so excited.

And a little scared.