Just Be Yourself

When I was about twenty-two, I won concert tickets from a local radio station. The opening act was a band my friends and I loved, but the main act was not exactly our genre (think pop-punk meets heavy metal, throw in a heaping handful of foul language and you’ll get the idea). I invited two of my good friends to attend the concert with me and after a short discussion, it dawned on us that we didn’t exactly fit the mold of the audience we’d be joining. (We were upper-class, suburban, twenty-somethings that said no to drugs.) I looked in my closet for something appropriate for a punk-metal concert. The best I could come up with was a black fitted tee from Gap and slightly faded jeans. I took some scissors to the knees of the jeans, hoping to make them look naturally “distressed,” but being the perfectionist I am, I couldn’t make myself cut anything other than straight lines, which totally gave me away. I bought some temporary colored hairspray at the drugstore and attempted a grunge look. Instead, my hot pink streaks made it look like I was headed for a Hannah Montana concert. We figured we’d tailgate in the parking lot before the concert so we came with picnic food in tow. Remember I said we were upper-class? Ya. Our tailgate food consisted of a french baguette, spinach dip, assorted meats and cheeses, and some sparkling cider. We didn’t make any friends in that parking lot. Later into the evening when the main act took the stage, (their backdrop was the f-word in giant letters, lit on fire), and the air around us filled with the smell of weed, I realized I MAY have stepped a little further outside my comfort zone than I’d intended. My friends and I brought glow sticks to create a fun atmosphere. The fans around us had brought joints. We left early, but not before we sold our glow sticks to the highest (pun intended) bidder. Turns out, punk metal fans lose all inhibitions after a few puffs and they’re willing to pay top dollar for a couple of Dollar Tree “magical sticks.” Our profit more than paid for my pricey picnic food. So the moral of the story is, don’t do drugs but take advantage of those who do. (Kidding.)

Have you ever tried to fit in a crowd and soon realized it was a big mistake? We go to great lengths to ensure we don’t stand out. We just want to blend in and get lost in a sea of faces. We don’t want to draw attention. Why? We don’t want to be stared at, judged, or made fun of. “Just be yourself,” we’re told. Sounds easy enough. But we don’t believe our true self is who others want to see. Our insecurities often get the better of us. Our inner voice tells us we won’t be accepted if we show our true colors. So we change our clothes a few times before leaving the house. We hold our tongue during a lively discussion. We don’t order the food we want because no one else is ordering that. We stage our home for visitors just coming for dinner. We exhaust ourselves trying to stifle who we are, and it doesn’t work anyway. You can’t hide who you truly are. Case in point: try as I might, I didn’t hide who I was at that concert. My fitted tee, French baguette, and glow sticks made it painfully obvious I was faking. In the end, I came home early, wreaking of marijuana, cheap pink spray stuck in my hair and I’d ruined my favorite pair of jeans. It wasn’t exactly worth it.

Concert incident aside, I’ve never exactly been a follower. My parents will tell you I’ve never had a problem drawing attention to myself. The problem is, that I didn’t always do it for the right reasons. I exaggerated, I lied, I did everything with dramatic flair, all for the sweet glory of attention. Time, humility, and maturity have helped me grow and to own my “louder” gifts of leadership, story-telling, and confidence. Now I try to use them to bless, encourage and affirm others, not to lift myself up. I’ve learned that while we don’t need to apologize for who we are, “That’s just who I am,” should never be an excuse to put others down or justify poor choices and behaviors. Owning who you are, also means owning UP to who you are.

Now I’m a mom to a very dramatic, flamboyant, confident little boy, who, more often than not, stands out in a crowd. There isn’t a day in his life he’s tried to be anything other than wholly and completely himself, and I love him for it. His loud personality though, like mine, needs help being channeled to use for good, not evil, (so to speak). He LOVES to share stories, but when he interrupts or adds the last word just to outdo his sister, or us, he needs to reign it in. My son doesn’t fit the mold of a typical boy in most respects. He loves the color pink, playing dress-up, and frankly, dinosaurs scare him a bit. He’s never shown much interest in construction sites or sports (aside from bowling). He’d rather spend his time whipping up recipes in the kitchen or having a personal dance party. His Kindergarten teacher tells me his personality fills up a room and that he’s just so stinkin’ confident in everything he does. I’ve never needed to remind him to, “Just be yourself.” When do we lose that childish innocence? When do we start believing that being ourselves isn’t good enough?

When I was in the eighth grade, I went to a friend’s house to meet up before a Halloween dance at our school. I came dressed in spirited wear- skeleton leggings, a black corduroy jumper, pumpkin-shaped pins attached to my blouse. Even my braces were black and orange. My friends, I soon realized, were not dressed for the occasion. They were busy straightening their hair, putting on lipstick, and dawning the latest Sketcher shoes, flannel shirts, and black jeans. They looked SO cool. (It was the 90’s folks.) I looked down at my outfit and immediately wished I had worn something more subtle, instead of looking like a poster child for Halloween spirit. My “friends,” teased me for my lack of makeup and my turtleneck top. But in the end, guess who had more fun at the dance? The girls I came with spent the entire night checking their reflections in the bathroom mirrors and fussing over which boys were there. I got tons of compliments on my skeleton leggings (they were glow-in-the-dark) and found other friends who joined me in dancing the night away. I was so glad I chose to be myself. I distanced myself from those girls for the rest of the year. They didn’t accept me for who I was, and I didn’t need them.

What a shame it would be if we spent most of our days hiding in the shadows because we’re afraid of what others will think. Think about the times you owned who you were. Maybe it was years ago. Do you remember how it felt? I don’t regret those times, do you? Could we lose a few friends, turn a few heads, be the butt of a joke? Absolutely. But if that’s the worst that could happen, I’d rather be comfortable in my skin. I’d rather walk away confident, knowing I represented myself accurately. I won’t need to question whether or not the love my friends have for me is genuine. We can (and we should), hold our heads high in any room, in any crowd. We are all a creative blend of personality traits, talents, and strengths. We have so much to offer. In the end, just being yourself, really is easier.

The first time my now-husband and I hung out together, it was at a Starbucks down the street from our college campus. Throughout our conversation he confessed was a big fan of the boy band, NSync, (even though he was a 24-year-old guy with no younger sisters). It was a little embarrassing for him to admit, but he was completely and totally himself. I was an NSync fan too, and his authenticity at that moment was what led me to call my friend from the Starbucks parking lot to say, “I just met the guy I’m going to marry.” Being yourself is never a bad idea. It could change your life for the better.