Tag Archives: Friendship

Dysmorphia

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This post isn’t about my body. It’s about my mind, my skills, my potential. It’s also about trust and confidence.

I gave a presentation at work this week. I was anxious in the week leading up to it. I feel spastic when I present. Am I talking too fast? Am I pronouncing words correctly? Do I make sense? Am I making eye contact? Will I be able to answer the questions that are asked of me? Once I started the presentation, I felt good. I knew the material really well, so that helped. Was I as prepared as I hoped I would be? No. But I got through it. I got through the whole hour. People laughed. They engaged in discussion. They clapped and thanked me. I got some immediate feedback from a few team members. Later in the day, I met with my boss and he gave me good feedback as well.

What really did me in is when my boss’s boss talked to me about the presentation. If anyone would give me constructive criticism or be frank about skills that need improvement, it would be her. I was elated when I realized that she had only good things to say. She had heard through the grapevine that I was nervous, and she asked me if that was true. I told her it was. She said she couldn’t believe it.

I suppose I never worry that I’m too full of myself. Even back in my music competition days, I won a lot of 1st prize trophies… but in my head, there had never been that perfect performance. I can always do better. Always. Thus, despite all the great feedback I got on my presentation, I can’t help but think about what I will do differently so that my next presentation is better. On the other hand, without that feedback, I would still be thinking that the presentation was a disaster that nobody enjoyed.

I don’t like soliciting feedback. It scares me. I don’t want to hear anything bad. I don’t want to be patronized. I just want the truth. And the truth can be harsh. It really can. But the truth can be amazing, and hearing what other people have to say is one of the ways that we improve ourselves. It’s how we find out what we’re good at. It’s how we open our eyes to opportunities. I look to my trusted friends and to those I respect for an honest opinion. Here’s the thing: whenever there is anything less than positive to say, it is immediately followed with advice or questions to help me be better. It’s what we should all do for one another: tell people how wonderful they are and help them to become better people.

I will admit that I avoid anyone with negative energy or anyone who makes me feel badly about myself. I think it’s a courageous thing to do: sometimes it means ending relationships with people we love. But I depend on people to tell me who I am. After all, I’m nothing if I’m not around others, making an impact on their lives. I need them to ease my anxiety, affirm my attributes, point out my flaws, and even suggest paths and actions that I would never think of on my own.

People are my mirror. I am a mirror to other people. So, listen to what people have to say, and be thoughtful with what you say to others. It matters. Don’t hesitate to tell someone when they have done a good job. It may mean the world to them.

Swing Dancing and Kindred Spirits

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As you may or may not already know, I was forced persuaded to take a swing dancing class when I visited uberfriend Janesse in Toronto over the summer. I was nervous about it for a handful of reasons: I’m an awful dancer, I was in a strange town, it was hot and humid, and I had no idea what to expect. Oh, and did I mention that I’m an awful dancer?

Janesse was gracious enough to say she would learn as a leader so that I wouldn’t be paired with a stranger. That blew up in our faces pretty quickly when it became clear that we would be rotating partners. How fun! Not only would I get to dance with a stranger, I would get to dance with ALL of the strangers!

The strangers came in many different varieties. Young, old, short, tall, different races and accents. They varied in dance experience. Some were very serious, others very carefree. One was a serious spaz—-I was selfishly grateful to dance with him. Anyway, what began as a simple intro to Swing Dancing turned into an interesting study of varying personalities in an instructive setting for an activity that requires partnership.

First, let’s talk about me: the girl who has a tendency to avoid situations like this, who worries about being a laughingstock when trying something new, who lets frustration get the best of her, who vows before she even begins something that she will not have a good time. Gosh, I guess (or hope) that that’s the old version of me. It must be, because I promised myself to try my best, connect with others in the class, laugh off my mistakes while working to correct them, and to have fun no matter what. I remained open, much like I did when I took that skiing class last New Years Eve: maybe taking this beginners class would unlock a natural talent that I hadn’t discovered yet. (I can officially report that I am neither a naturally gifted swing dancer nor skiier.)

Now, onto the guys in the class. Allow me to put them into three buckets:

  • Strictly (Serious) Ballroom!
  • Are You There, Dude? It’s Me, Melissa.
  • You Make Me Feel Like A Natural… Dancer

The Strictly (Serious) Ballroom! guys are exactly what you would expect. No smiles. Ready with a towel to wipe the sweat off their faces. No exchanging of pleasantries. This was clearly not their first dance class. But, it was my first dance class. So, imagine my disappointment when I missed a step—-with my second partner of the night (and we rotated about every two minutes)—-and was scolded for it. “You’re supposed to step on 4, not 5!” Geez, grandpa, excuse me for living! Another guy tried to physically force me into being in the correct position. What jackasses! It was a relief when I got to dance with…

…Are You There, Dude? It’s Me, Melissa. Most of the guys were polite. They would introduce themselves, ask how I was doing, wouldn’t give me a hard time if I messed up. They just went through the motions until our moment of dancing together was over. They were there and they were dancing. They were kind and forgiving. They just didn’t seem to be having any fun. They were probably dragged their by their girlfriends or whomever.

Finally, my favorite guys in the class: You Make Me Feel Like A Natural… Dancer! What separates this group of guys from the previous group is that they danced with a smile on their face, whether they were good at it or not. When one of us (usually me) would mess up, we would laugh and keep on dancing until we got back on track. They would change up the dance moves. They came up with creative ways to help me correct my mistakes. And they would thank me for dancing with them. How nice! The best thing about this group: they made eye contact. You guys! Eye contact! There were a lot of other people in the room, probably someone else that they had come to the class with. But when we were paired together, it was about ME. Sure, eye contact can be creepy, but in a setting like this, when everyone is (supposedly) a beginner who is there to have some fun, and your success depends on both your skill/attitude and that of your partner’s, eye contact is so important. Keep that in mind, fellas.

What’s my point here? Oh, yes. I was thinking about this dance class and how I got to get a glimpse into several strangers’ personalities simply by dancing with them for a short moment. Furthermore, I got some insight on myself. I don’t ever want to be around those strict guys ever again. I don’t particularly care about the guys who didn’t particularly care about getting to know me. But I would love to hang out with the guys with whom I found myself having a genuinely good time. Applied to everyday life, it makes sense. I want to be around people who want to be around me, who motivate me to be better, who make me smile. And I want to be that person for my friends. Even if the moments are few and far between, I know after making that connection with someone that I have found a kindred spirit.

I feel like the past couple of years have been an exercise in opening myself to people with whom I never thought I could be friends. I have done things that I never imagined I would do. It all comes down to a single idea: Seize the opportunity to become a smarter, more creative, and more interesting person. And, while I already knew this before the swing dancing class, this add-on to the idea was enforced: Surround yourself with people who want you to be smarter, more creative, and more interesting. Just don’t forget to be that person for your friends.

How To Be Your Own Best Friend

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I’m not dishing out advice on this one. I’m asking for it. I do have close friends, but distance, other obligations, differences in our interests, and bad timing prevent us from doing much together.

I’m not used to doing things by myself, especially if it’s something that I’ve never done before. The unknown is not only scary and sometimes risky, it can lead to disappointment, embarrassment, a feeling that you have wasted your time. Of course, the unknown can also lead to new friendships, great memories, and major life accomplishments.

Things that I am perfectly okay with doing on my own include going to watch a movie, hanging out in a cafe (as long as I have a laptop or book), shopping (usually), even eating in a restaurant. Things that I hate doing by myself include going to a bar, attending a concert, taking a class, and exercising.

The problem is that the only person I can count on right now is myself. “I have no one to go with” is becoming a really lame excuse to not do stuff. Not being able to drive used to be an AWESOME excuse, but not one that I can hide behind anymore. I have to laugh every time people assume that I have this great life as a single woman living in the city. People, it’s only great if you leave the house and try new things every once in awhile. Of course, we all need people. It can get lonely and scary when you’re by yourself. I have to teach myself that living my life doesn’t mean that I need someone by my side all the time.

A friend of mine said that when none of her friends are around, she’s her own bestie. Being my own best friend is something I need to embrace. And I’m willing to bet that being my own best friend will lead me to making new friendships… hopefully not with people whom I will grow to hate and then have to cut out of my life. But that’s another post for another day.