I've always considered myself to be reserved yet open at the same time. What I mean is, I keep to myself and don't usually go out of my way to voice my opinion or discuss my personal life, but I have no qualms about doing so and am comfortable answering almost any question. This is how I have always perceived myself, but that's not the person who came out last night.
I essentially have two true, legitimate friends so far here in Harrisburg. We've gone out as a group somewhat regularly in the month and a half I have been here, and they're two great girls who are fun to be around. Just like with anyone you're just beginning to befriend, you present a polite, likeable front, and this facade serves as your representative until you're gradually ready to open up more and more and reveal your true self. As my friends have gotten more and more vocal and feel more comfortable openning up, my presentation has changed only slightly. This is not from not being ready to open up to them specifically; it's that with me, what you see at the beginning is pretty much what you're going to get. While I get along with people very easily, I'm shy and talk in doses. This can sometimes be mistaken for lack of interest or conceit. It's neither. It's quiet reservation, a trait without a definite positive or negative connotation.
Last night over drinks, my friends were ready to open up more. But apparently girls talk together (you're not fooling anyone when you go to the bathroom in pairs), and they had a mental list of several questions, personal issues, that they wanted me to open up with. I don't tend to go out of my way to answer these questions. At the same time, I am fine with informing people of how many women I've slept with, that I indeed have a somewhat closet risque side and a thing for older women, that I've only had one true, bring-home-to-the-parents girlfriend, that I come from a well-off family who doesn't want to coddle me but is more than willing to make sure I'm taken care of, that I tend to overthink and worry in certain situations.
I had no problem answering these questions individually, but the layer effect of one issue after another began to overwhelm me. I realized that these girls could very well perceive me as uptight (which I can be from time to time) and fear that I was judging them for not being as "pure" or "good" (their words, not mine) as me. I wanted to make them feel better, to show them that I wasn't judging, and that I indeed had my vices too. But I got so focused on that, I let out more than I usually would, and I fell out of my comfort zone. At one point I was beginning to tell a story that they had high expectations for (the high expectations were my own fault), when in actuality the on-paper scenario was wilder than the actual situation. I embellished on my story. While what I said was technically true, I made deliberate hints that the story was far more outlandish than what actually happened. It was an effort for them to feel that I can relate to some of the stories they will tell me, but in the end the story seemed a little unlikely to come from me. I think I got caught.
There were some high times and low times, some heartfelt support and awkward silences. When I have a night as eventful as this, I tend to think about it as I'm in bed. My thinking isn't usually productive, however; it's usually a circulatory recreation of the events in my head. But last night, so many things came out, so many things I'm unaccustomed to revealing in such an open manner, that I couldn't concentrate on one thought. My mind was going chaotic trying to jump from one scene to the next without ever being able to gain composure. That's when my heart started racing. I could feel the thumps against my mattress. My muscles subtly quivered. And when I woke up a few hours later, I was still slightly shaken.
I believe this was true anxiety, and what the underlying cause of it was, I can't say for sure. Perhaps even though my shyness and reservations don't prevent me from opening up and expressing my deepest emotions, they do somewhat limit the rate and intensity of what I can express. Just as I like to prove myself over time, I prefer to reveal myself over time. I have a limit of what I'm willing to reveal at a given time. Before last night, I wasn't aware of that boundary. I only discovered that line by crossing it.
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