What other people might think

I get up at 5am every morning because I like to write from 5:30-7:30 in a zoom group that is in a community called Landscapes. One morning I decided I wanted to make another cup of coffee (I don't actually drink coffee, I drink something called Dandy Blend, and I needed you to know that because I don't want you to think I drink coffee and I actually don't lol) and that I was going to turn my camera off while I did it.

This sounds like such a small thing. But for me, a decision like this is difficult. It is so ingrained in me to not do anything that will garner attention that something as unremarkable as turning off my camera during a co-writing session can cause me distress. It feels wrong for me to change what I'm doing midstream in an other-people-can-see-me situation. It tells me how closely I pay attention to what other people might think.

It's a lot better now, but I used to change clothes so many times before I could leave the house. Even just to run to the grocery store. I would put on combination after combination, working myself into a flurry, nothing would look right. These pants aren't right. Now the shirt is wrong. I don't have the right shoes. It was Goldilocks supercharged. I also hated being late (which I don't anymore, I don't like it but I can handle it), so if I was going somewhere and a set time/other people were involved I would end up just throwing something on in frantic desperation and then feel completely uncomfortable, silently cursing and pulling at my clothes the whole time.

Things like this take so much energy. Looking "right" when I go out in public is a way that I can signal I'm "normal". If I look the part then I don't get too perceived by other people. I don't have to do the work of holding other people's gazes, wordlessly questioning my vibe. My appearance could be points in the normal column. It might like...even it out somehow.

What other people might think seems like vital information when you have rarely had a felt sense of belonging in the world. I wonder what it's like to just get out of bed, put clothes on, grab your keys, walk out of the house, go to a place, and not think anything of it. Like, not think about any of it. AT ALL.

My whole body relaxed when I imagined it lol

There's this unspoken need for us to look the part of a "normal" (normal is just forever in quotes for me) human to belong- and that entails dressing like a normal person, having the normal sized body, saying and doing normal things. OH MY GOD. Writing all that out is having the totally opposite effect of imagining doing it the not think about any of it way. It totally stresses me out. It is so hard to do.

My dad used to yell "Who do you think you are?!?" at me when we were in an argument. "I DON'T KNOW!!!!" I would yell louder at him. "I JUST WANT TO BE ME!!!" I wanted so much to just be me, and I couldn't understand why me was wrong somehow. It seemed like other people said what they thought and it was fine, but when I did I was rude, dramatic, too sensitive, or weird. It seemed like other people wore what they wanted, but when I wore what I wanted it didn't look right when I got out among other people. I just had a vibe that no matter how normal I looked people would sense that something was different about me.

Figuring out what other people might think seemed like the way to get that sense of belonging, the sense of sinking in to the soft arms of being accepted- but I tended to guess wrong most of the time. And so I spent an immense amount of time and energy trying to visibly and verbally blend in so people wouldn't think of me at all. I was trying to be invisible.

(And also, I bet people thought I did feel included. I bet they had no idea how hard it was for me to just get dressed, how much I had to camouflage for them to think I felt okay.)

I remember being around 5 years old wearing this orange-y calico dress and white pinafore my mom or my grandmother made me. It was too small and when I bent over my underwear might show but who cared?

Other kids cared.

They made fun of me, called me 'Underwear Girl'. I can see it clear as day, some other neighborhood kids and I were playing on my best friends long wooden front porch. Suddenly, someone called out 'Hahaha! Underwear Girl!' and the scene froze and it felt like there were two spotlights: I was in one, they were in the other.

In that moment I chose to make fun of myself too, ha ha I'm so stupid for wearing this in a sort of if you can't beat 'em join 'em kind of way, but on the inside I was so confused. Why had they all turned against me? Even my best friend? It was the first time I remember not understanding what I'd done wrong- and other people saw it- like everyone else knew something I didn't. It was the first time I could have stuck up for myself, and I didn't. Once I saw myself alone in the other light I couldn't unsee it. And I couldn't stand it.

It was a moment that would define my life- I would abandon myself over and over again, belittling myself to stay with the others in their spotlight, my Self left standing crushed in my own pool of light. Where did you go? my heart would cry. Why did you leave us? But it was too hard to feel left out and so I left my Self instead.

I think the hardest thing about the curtain being pulled back by getting diagnosed as AuDHD is the whiplash. There's the rush of courage and joy (Yay! I know why I feel weird I AM weird! I'm in my own spotlight!)that's followed by the oh no and I don't think I can do this (Shit! People might think I'm weird! TAKE COVER!) even though it's just turning off a camera on zoom in a co-working session.

When things like that happen it really reminds me of how deep the don't be weird fear goes, how I can loop about what everyone might think if I turn my camera off even though I am a grown up person who knows logically no one cares. It still can turn into a thing. It's like dreaming you're naked somewhere you don't want to be naked, and then waking up, oh phew it was a dream, but then you still have the residue of the dream that feels real.

In the funny way the universe has of adding interest to life, another morning I am the only one on camera. So now, I want to turn my camera off because everyone else has theirs off. But I haven't. And I'm not going to, even though I am the only one with my camera on lol. My brain is doing all the usual gymnastics

am I supposed to have my camera off?

should I turn it off?

just leave it on

will I look ridiculous if I turn it off now?

just leave it on

is everyone feeling sorry for me because I have my camera on, like oh that poor stupid woman who still has her camera on

just leave it on

now I really can't turn it off

should I just turn it off?

What I realized is this:

I am willing to not know, look stupid, make an ass of myself, get it wrong, be awkward, be uncomfortable.

I am willing to do all that so I CAN BE FREE.

Creating the security to actually be free is going to take a lot of practice. It's really about teaching myself that being awkward, or getting it wrong, or all the whatever whatever- is a natural part of life not a sign that I am a bad, horrid, unacceptable non-human. Not looking stupid or foolish has been at the top of my things to do list for so long, I feel a bit sad to think of moving it to a lower priority part of my mental list.

But...what I'm also slowly coming to realize is...what people might think could matter to me in a different way...and, I could trust what I think. It's hard to do that when I've been outside of most consensuses most of my life, and it starts small, but it feels real.

It feels...human.