I've been putting this one off because I couldn't think of an answer. As far as I'm concerned, I'm a pretty open book. There's the whole emoting thing. And, believe me, exaggerating expressions to make them more readable doesn't work. It just makes people think you're crazy:
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| I'm so happy to frost this cake! |
But, I tend to do fine in general social situations and all my friends already know I don't emote well, so this really isn't news or really a problem. My friends just ask me upfront if I'm joking or what I meant by whatever.
I took my problem to my friend Angela. She writes the blog where I got the list. I explained to her that I just don't feel misunderstood. (Who knew that would ever be a problem?) First, she suggested how I write how I'm tough on the outside but I like to wear girly bras. Unfortunately, though I have some cute bras, my favorite is a full coverage nude bra that is completely unsexy. And, if I had my way, I wouldn't wear a bra at all. They're terribly uncomfortable. So that was out.
Then I suggested my dislike for puppies and this conversation happened:
Disclaimer: No puppies or babies were hurt in the making of this conversation and Angela happens to really like babies.
Okay, maybe puppy hating wouldn't make me very popular and perhaps it's more of a misconception than a misunderstanding. Hm. I decided to ask my husband.
Me: "Angela and I are doing this list thing on our blogs and one of the questions is, 'What do you think people misunderstand most about you?'"
Husband: "That's not something you ask your husband. That is a loaded question. No man would answer that question if he wanted to live!" Then he backed away and disappeared into the kitchen.
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| Who you calling paranoid? |
I think he misunderstood me. Maybe. I certainly felt more paranoid than when I started this quest to be misunderstood. What the Hell does he know about me that I don't know?
For the sake of our marriage, I'll let that one go. Angela helped distract me from cornering my husband and twisting his arm until he confessed everything. She suggested that perhaps people think I'm tougher than I really am. That things bother me more than I let people know. Or, as she put it, "Julie-she has feelings." This followed with me calling her a liar and threatening to punch her.
But, she's right. I have a TON of patience and most things don't seem to bother me. It's hard to know I'm mad unless I'm really, really mad. It's hard to tell I'm sad unless I'm really, really sad. I handled my mother's death with very little crying. Not because it didn't hurt, but because there were things to do, people to take care of, and just no time. I had nightmares about her trying to kill me instead. I was bullied as a kid and stood up to a lot of bullies in defense of my friends from my elementary life through high school. I faced off with anybody who wanted to cause me or my friends trouble no matter gender, race, size, grade or age. I discovered real quick not to let people know when I was hurt, physically or emotionally. Then, people started depending on me and they needed me to be strong. They needed me to be a rock. So I was. I was this unshakable, tough-as nails, chick that the seniors nicknamed "Vicious" when I was a freshman. Like I said, it didn't matter how much older or bigger you were than me, I didn't put up with crap. But, it has come at a price. I've been so busy showing the world how tough I am, how solid I am for people to lean on, how stoic I can be, that I actually let people run over my feelings all the time. I get taken advantage of all the time. "Julie doesn't care." "Nothing bothers Julie." "Julie doesn't have feelings to tread on." But I do. I hurt as much as anyone else. I have been betrayed, crushed, and devastated. I have cried so hard that I have thrown up. I have screamed from emotional agony. In fact, I take antidepressants.
So there's the horrible truth. The thing that people most misunderstand about me. I'm human and it's not that hard to hurt me, it's just harder to see the wound.
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