A little explanation of me…

I am an optimist. I know this surprises a lot of people, because I’m also a realist…and realism often gets confused with negativity. But, I’m really an optimist. For example, I think that something good comes out of every heartache. I believe in the good of human kind. I believe that on some level, everyone has good qualities, and that we all have the ability and the propensity to be compassionate and loving towards each other. I see examples of this everywhere I go. From the woman, a stranger, who shared her umbrella with me on the way to my car after work, to the monetary donations we will make to a friend, or even a stranger, who is going through a tough time. At the same time, the realist in me understands that we need to survive. And sometimes that survival instinct kicks in when it’s not necessary. We want to be successful in our careers. Make money. Be well liked. Be loved. And sometimes that drive causes us to do hurtful things. To be lazy. To lie. Cheat. Steal. So, while I believe that on some level everyone has the capacity to do good, and often do good, I know that we don’t always act that out. So, I don’t necessarily trust people…especially those I don’t know. I’m cautious and skeptical.

I’m outgoing and an extrovert. I get a rush from talking to people. I like being in crowds and feeding off that energy. But, I’m guarded in who I’ll be close to. I may have a two hour conversation with someone I just met, but at the end of that conversation, he or she will know very little about who I really am. It takes years sometimes for me to truly open up to someone and let them know me. I’m not ashamed of who I am…I’m actually proud. But, while I enjoy being in the midst of all the activity, I don’t necessarily enjoy being in the center of everything. I’m comfortable with public speaking. I even enjoy it. But, I’m not comfortable in giving speeches about myself. Any other subject and I’m the first to volunteer, but not when it comes to sharing my experiences. For that, I write.

I’m happy when people come to me for advice. It’s one of my gifts. To listen and interpret. Read between the lines and get to the core of a problem. I can give sound advice and my advice works. But, I take other peoples’ problems to heart and they become my own. After I listen to drama and help solve problems, I’m often exhausted and depressed. The extrovert in me goes into hiding and all I can do effectively is isolate myself and lose time in a good book. So, while I want to help people and will always do it, I don’t necessarily love it and often feel burdened by it.

At the same time, I’m slow to turn to others for advice. Admitting that I need help is hard for me. And besides the few people in my life who I trust enough to completely open up to, I won’t admit having problems to anyone. The ironic thing is, I think it’s healthy and good when people talk about their burdens, but I still won’t do it.

I like to read and lately, I’ve been reading blogs. I like reading about what people truly are going through, thinking, and feeling. People open up in writing in a way that just doesn’t happen in face to face conversation. I know that hiding behind my writing as I share my thoughts is much easier than standing up, vulnerable, and speaking them. But, since I started reading other blogs, I feel more and more inadequate in mine. I’m not dealing with repressed childhood angst. I haven’t lost a spouse, I’m not going through a divorce, my child is not sick, I have a secure and comfortable job. In other words, my lack of struggle makes me boring. This hasn’t always been the case. I’ve had hard times, difficulties at work and school. I’ve been through West Point and struggled. I’ve missed my family. Had my heart broken. Lost loved ones (too many, too soon). I’ve been to war. I could write about these things, and probably will scatter these experiences throughout my writing…but, I’m a survivor. I live in the present and try to enjoy it. The realist in me knows that things probably won’t always be so drama free…the optimist won’t dwell on that.

Roger says I can be complicated at times. And I’ve heard that from a lot of people. But really it’s simple. Yes, I’m the Skeptical Optimist. The Guarded Extrovert. The Reluctant Caretaker. The Writer who has nothing to say. But, I am also honest. I don’t pretend to be something that I’m not. I won’t tell you you’re a friend if I don’t consider you one. I won’t say I love you if I don’t. I may not be quick to volunteer my feelings, but ask me anything, and you’ll get a straightforward, honest answer.

Anyone who says that they are always happy, always optimistic, always hard working, always loves the world, is lying. These things aren’t black and white. I’m simple in my contradictions. My moods, my feelings, and my attitude are all dependant on my environment, on what is happening around me at the moment. I’m not a victim, but I’m also not impenetrable. Today, I’m happy, content, and in love. I like it this way.