I turn the corner onto Virginia Avenue, and suddenly I see him walking on the sidewalk. Aaron (my ex-something-not really a boyfriend but something like that) is tall, dark, and handsome–my archetype, so he stands out. I stare at Aaron through my car window, jaw dropping, unable to believe that he’s in my neck of the woods.
Why in the world would he drive an hour to have brunch at Milktooth? I mean, Milktooth is cool and everything, but he’s NOT even a foodie.
Aaron spots me in my car, since I don’t have the foresight to close my jaw and stop staring at him.
Like, this is a photo of me in that very moment:
Aaron waves. I wave back. I suddenly have a flashback of the time he made me a mimosa for breakfast and I didn’t have the courage to tell him that it was the worst mimosa I’d ever had in my life. I quickly snap back to reality as I spot a girl walking next to him, attempting to keep up with his long stride.
Now normally, this would REALLY bother me: seeing an ex-something but not really a boyfriend with another woman. (I mean I’m kinda zen, but not THAT zen.) However, in this very moment I realize I have no reason at all to feel weird about it, since I’m about to do the VERY same thing: brunch with new man 😳.
I pull out my phone and text Aaron, “Hey! What are you doing here?” followed by a smiley emoji so he doesn’t think I’m being confrontational. I just need to figure out if he’s going into Milktooth (where I’m meeting my date, Justin), because if he is, I NEED TO KNOW THIS MINUTE SO I CAN AVOID COMPLETE AWKWARDNESS.
He texts back that his “friend” is visiting from Boston, and he just picked her up at the Indy airport and decided to eat brunch at Milktooth since it was ranked #1 on some foodie thing and BLAH BLAH BLAH I stop reading since I have my answer.
I find a parking space and immediately text Justin.
“Hi!” I say and then stop.
Because I have no clue what to say next. This feels like one of those life or death moments, since I’m now sweating about the prospect of a FIRST (yes, I said first) date with a guy I really like (at least so far, over text) at a restaurant where I will have to watch another guy whom I have dated eat brunch with another girl.
I just literally CANNOT EVEN with this shit.
“Now is not the time to beat around the bush,” some gut instinctual voice whispers in my ear. “Now is the time for ruthless honesty.”
I suddenly imagine myself wearing some kind of medal for being courageous, which feels ridiculous and yet soothing at the same time. This image somehow propels me into typing the next part of the text.
“Can we meet at a donut shop up the street? I know you really want to go to Milktooth, but I can’t go there today because a guy I know is there on a date and I have gone on dates with him before and it would just be awkward.” Push send now, damn it, before you have second thoughts.
I push send and wait. A minute passes. Two minutes. Finally I see those little dots on Justin’s side of the IMessage which tells me he’s typing. I stare at those stupid dots because, in this moment, I believe they hold the power to decide for me whether or not this day is going to be shitty or half-way pleasant. The dots suddenly stop again. UGH. I wait another minute. Then the IMessage text comes through.
“Sure that would be fine lol.”
I was in shock that I was honest and he still wanted to see me. Like, I SHOWED UP as my awkward, embarrassed self and he still may like me.
This story happened over two years ago, and I’m still scared to show up as me. I continue to struggle with the fact that it’s okay to tell the truth from the start with someone about the awkward shit we feel and experience. Like, I may be someone who is easy to talk to, but I am not someone who is completely comfortable with being my awkward self all of the time.
Some of our most painful experiences stem from the times we have shown up to the party as ourselves, and people left the room. (Yes, this is a metaphor, but if you’re nerdy like me, it has actually happened literally too.)
Being myself is SCARY and I need to give myself medals for doing it.
Because, here’s the thing: there’s a part of me that knows that the only way I can find “my people” is if I tell the truth. There will be people who may leave the room when I show up as me, but there will also be people that feel my “realness.”
And even though Justin turned out to be a complete meanie (more on him some other time), I am thankful that I learned how to show up as me. Because it also gave him the opportunity to decide if he wanted to come to my party and help me put on my new, shiny pretend medal- the one I awarded myself for being me.