painting nails and gossiping
I am not sure if others feel this, but I have always felt overwhelmed and uncomfortable standing out or being recognisable in a crowd. I want to blend in and disappear because that makes going outside and participating in the world easier. I wish that no one sees me or remembers me. Maybe I don't deserve to be seen. It feels like something one has to earn by being a worthy and whole person first.
Sometimes I think, is this to disappear myself, or remain so invisible that I can look at others without reflection.
It has been the only way to hide the noise of social anxiety for me.
It manifests in wearing mostly all black, simple pants or shorts, and a band tshirt/long sleeve/hoodie. If I pick a shoe, a style, a look, it has to be safe and what the majority of people wear. Just enough to fit in and be in vogue, but not truly myself.
The only real way I express myself is through my music tshirts. But that is such a trope for a 30 something millennial man. There you go, another way to blend in.
Do I enjoy denying myself self-expression? I think I just feel that it's too hard. Because deep down I have never had a good sense of self.
I feel like this is shifting though.
Last week, my friend A painted my nails. We sat down at the dining table at the hotel we were staying at in Hobart. They gave me a choice for 3 colours. I chose the dark green. I love green and teal. I laid my hand out and we gossiped and talked about life as my nails slowly flowed with colour. I had tried to do this before last year but felt so self conscious that I removed the nail polish shortly afterwards. We let my nails dry. They teach me a trick to run some olive oil on my nails a bit later for the paint to dry better. I feel so comfortable and cared for. I feel like I am learning these little secrets that make life worth living.
I get some instructions on how to clean the polish that has spilled over the nails using some fancy cotton buds and some acetate. This ritual felt like such a welcome relief to the strong agony I was feeling. My fight or flight response slowly calming down.
It's OK for me to exist. It's OK that I try new things and express myself. It's OK to not blend in all the time. It's OK to explore what I like and don't like. I grew up learning that sacrificing things was a way of life, and wanting nice things for yourself is not something to be happy about. You put your head down, do your work, and carry on until you die. You look after others only.
I don't need to punish myself for existing. I hope one day this comes naturally to me.
Maybe this is the start of me being unapologetically myself and try things I have always put off for being too expressive. Maybe I'll finally get that tattoo. Or maybe that piercing. Or maybe I will wear rings or necklaces. Or wear colourful clothes. I have already repainted my nails with so much more confidence as soon as I got back home. Maybe I will not hide behind sadness and conformity any more.
I think through all this, what I keep coming back to is seeing how much my friend fights for expressing themselves and showing up for their true self. Their courage for me is inspiration. So, let's gossip and paint each other's nails one day again soon, A.
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