I want to be smart.

I don’t like not being smart.  And I guess I could be perceived as being smart.  But I do not think that I am.  Maybe I am intelligent.  But I don’t think I’m smart.

My mom would say otherwise.  Friends I grew up with would too.  But I do not think I’m smart.  Sometimes I think I am smarter than other times.  But there are so many more smart intelligent people with actual high IQ’s, and I am not one of them.

I have ideas.  I have LOTS of ideas.  But I have a disconnect when it comes to translating them from my brain to any form of communication with those outside of myself.

Others reassure me that I’m smart.  But I think it is just that I have ideas.  I have intelligent ideas.  But I have no means of executing them.  Also, I’m not even smart enough to communicate them!  I have so much in my head and in my heart and in my soul, and it just sits there.  Like waiting.  Waiting.  Waiting.  For what?  For me.  For me to catch up with my ideas.

This is what makes me feel not smart.  The fact that I cannot catch up to my ideas.

I am not well-read.  I am averagely educated.  I have not extensively studied ANYTHING!  I have no expert knowledge on anything other than myself.  And, well, my expertise in that area is presently in question.

I can, however, SEEM smart.  I can act smart.  I can convince others I am MUCH more intelligent and MUCH more educated than I am.  I guess I’m kind of proud of this.  But, currently I’m feeling like a major fraud.  I deceive people into thinking I am smart and wise and intelligent and know what I’m talking about and know what I’m doing in many situations and subjects about which I have NO CLUE!

And sometimes I feel like I’ve deceived people too far.  And then it gets to a point where there is nothing left but for me to be found out.  This can be liberating if accepted.  But it is also terrifying because I feel comfortable in my smartness persona.

But really.  I’m not stupid.  Not smart.  Just average.  Average intelligence with the ability to embellish.

I can fake smart-talk about a lot of subjects…to a certain point.  But once a relationship or friendship deepens, my intellect is found out to be shallower than initially perceived.

This feels good, though.  Like I’m coming clean.  Coming to terms with it and putting it out there and it is all OK.

I’m becoming more and more OK with being “found out” than I used to.  Used to terrify me nearly to tears.  Now I just get nervous butterfly stomach.  Perhaps this means I’m becoming more and more OK with me…myself…who I really am.  That’s a nice.

So, I act smart.  It is a label I’ve lived with since childhood.  A label I’ve been given.  A label I like.  But a label that I’m outgrowing.   Oooooooh, I like that!  I’m outgrowing smart.  Growing further than my own intellect.

And that is all OK.

Part of me still wants to be “the smart one.”  But, part of me is ready to see what is beyond or beneath that label.  I’m becoming more ok with transcending my labels.  Only at times, though.  And only comfortable alone for now…I’m still deceiving others.  Or, perhaps they are all just going along with my game and playing the part until I’m ready to stop playing mine.


About heathencomehome

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