I am constantly terrified that I will be ‘found out.’
I’m also constantly expecting to be ‘found out.’
…and I am desperately yearning for someone to find me and figure me out.
We’ll start with the fear. I really felt it crossing the street today…of all things…
Anyway, I am afraid that people will find out what is really going on inside me and not like it…disapprove, mock, abandon, etc. I’m afraid they’ll figure out how critical I am, how disingenuous I am, how selfish I am, how fake I am, how much I lie, how much I do not know about anything, how untalented I am, how lazy I am, how dependent I am, how scared I am, how not-together I am, how broke I am, how incapable I am, how mean I am, how lonely I am, how nervous I am, how toxic I am, how I am not as hard of a worker as I pretend to be, how self-righteous I am, how angry I am, how hateful I can be,…all my faults that no one leads on that they see. Perhaps they do see these things and all the others, but they do not communicate to me this knowledge and so I keep living in fear of they day they find out. And since I have no idea they’ve figured any of me out, I continue to ‘pretend’ that I am not any of those things.
And I do not think I am at all good at hiding all of this. So, it is for this reason, that I expect to be found out at any moment. Leaving me living on pins and needles, (I think I just figured out why I feel so much self-induced stress.) constantly on edge and on the defensive.
But deep down–really deep down–in the core, the essential me, I really really desperately WANT someone to figure me out. And this is different than wanting someone to “call me out on my shit” like I think I’ve talked about before. No, I really really want to be known/seen/felt. And this is not new. Not some recent thing that develop in adulthood. No, this is an essential part of me…and perhaps it is an essential part of everyone. But I cannot speak for anyone but myself.
That is the reason I fell in love the few times that I actually allowed myself to–I felt seen/known/felt. And not only that, but I felt that those people with whom I fell in love actually took the time to figure me out…I felt like they wanted to figure me out. I felt like they knew there was more to me. I felt like they were curious about me they way a true explorer or adventurer is about some unknown terrain–not fearful, but confidently excited and anxious.
And I know I am perhaps reading a lot of these things into each of those incidents and cannot speak for the other people’s true motivations, but that is what I felt. Felt special enough to look at. NOt only that, but felt special enough to search for.
And perhaps this is why I layer myself–because I want an explorer/adventurer to find that unknown species that is me beneath all the layers of my own self-created dense, hot, humid, sweaty, thick jungle of issues.
ANd when that soul does find me, I am not certain what I will do…run away, pounce, calmly approach, or stand still. Could be all or none or one or a few. But I do hope I am not captured and tamed. Rather, I yearn to be left be for awhile and observed, studied…and figured out. Then, most likely the observed will become the observer because I get very curious anytime someone enters my world and stays for a little while…
That’s what I want so very desperately. ANd also what I fear and with an unknowing anxiety expect.