Ah, the wolf in sheep's clothing. I will beware after seeing behind the facade. No more fleece-eyes here. (soap-eyes, soap-eyes was a scary game Suz and I played as kids when we were getting ready for bed, remember? that and the throat-clearing noise threatening to spit toothpaste on the other's hands)
If you know me at all, then you know that lambs are one of my favoritist things in the world.
No, that is not a drawing of a goat. It was a goat but the artist did not believe the name sounded P.C. Hence, Fasheepey. In later renderings, his fleece is more apparent.
Aly had a little lamb, his fleece was slow to show.
And everywhere that Aly went, the lamb was sure to go.
At my school program this summer, I think I presented myself poorly. My social graces, the person I used to present initially is smothered under layers of complication. I learned this about myself recently. Reflecting back on the period of my life when I was in my late twenties and early thirties, a time of serial monogamy, I recall the observation someone made about me that I was so quiet when they first met me and how different I seemed after spending time with me. I had many transitions socially as a result of changes in steady boyfriend. With each new beau, there came a whole new group of friends (Usually. I did prefer guys with lots of friends.), and initially amongst a group I held back listening respectfully, gauging the situation, cautiously preparing comments to deflect attention away from myself until I felt safe. People deemed me quiet or shy after our initial encounters.
Truly, I am anything but that. In less social settings, I was judged as standoffish or aloof. Again, not me although closer. But, and I am not just saying this, I think my sister would concur, I did present as likable. In situations where I did not feel any pressure because it was unlikely I would see any of the people again, I was gracefully gregarious. I was accepted and welcomed, enjoyed and encouraged, socially adept and generally insightful. Suz brought me to a party after Sting performed and I worked the room like a pro. Even the events planner commented that I would be great at her job. One on one conversations were a breeze as a result of a lesson I learned from my favorite couple at that time A & M. The lesson M taught me was to just ask questions and listen intently, absorbing the person in like the aroma of baking bread.
Even my father used to say, do not worry about being included, just include others. WTF that meant. But it makes sense now. I did not worry for experience had taught me that I would be accepted and so I made others comfortable by casting them in the leading role for those moments in the movie of Aly's life. What was that like? Fascinating, and then you did what? I am so intrigued, I must know more. And like a chameleon, I had the outfit appropriate for every situation, hair and make-up adjustable, height and weight so insignificant no one would notice me. I will slip into your life and when you accept me, I might be myself.
And that was often when people were shocked by what came out of my mouth. My guard was down and I quipped to get a reaction. Scathing, funny, cutting, raunchy, bizarre, too close for comfort, edgy, off-color, or disturbing. But I meant it to stir the pot or stimulate the conversation, not to injure or attack. Of course, there were times when I was misunderstood and my comments taken as insensitive. I guess the people who really love me did not tell me how frequently this was the case but I still hold firm to the notion that I did not intend to hurt others and was quick to set matters straight after any misunderstandings.
Fast-forward to September of 2007 when my life began to spiral out of control. The vortex of chaos. I have always measured my self-worth by how I think I am judged by others. The reactions I got no longer matched who I thought I was. Did I change or did my ability to read others change? Neither? Both? My lack of understanding of the extent of my injury, my slow processing of input, my over-confidence in my perceptions, and my tendency toward impulsiveness created an unfortunate combination that reduced my self-efficacy to a pile of ash. No longer sure how I am being perceived, I mistakenly jump to the conclusion that I will not be accepted, that I will behave oddly and be shunned. This in turn becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Away at school, I saw a counselor whose first name happened to be the same as mine. I joked that it sounded like a soap-opera title but I think it was more like an SCTV skit I saw once. Rick Moranis playing Dick Cavett interviewing Dick Cavett.
At our second meeting, Alison recapped our first meeting for me, her intonation, phrasing, rhythm, and voice sounding so eerily like my own. "Last week on Alison and Alyson discuss Alyson, ..."
But it is the weekend of the move and the words of B that weigh heavily on my heart. (Not my S.O. B, he is a pillar of strength. Tee hee. B, my S.O. looks better. But I digress.) I thought B could be trusted, that he liked me, that he would be honest with me, but I was so wrong and I hate that. Like an Etch-a-Sketch shaken, the image I had was gone with just one phrase. "You are not paying me now." Well, he better be paying me soon. He owes me 2 C and 1 L.
On the phone with E who mentions she will be leaving in half an hour, then to my surprise she is already gone when I arrive not 7 minutes later. I can only picture the speed with which she must have departed to be out prior to my arrival. No real surprise there but does anyone else see that the emperor is not wearing any clothes?
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