When I was in the awkward morphling years of high school I had a recurring dream that lasted several weeks. Each night I would find myself in some public space, usually surrounded by peers and adults, and I would be completely “nakie” as my kids call it. At church, or work, or surrounded by friends I’d be wearing nothing but my birthday suit and absolutely terrified of being seen. Every night in my dreams I would do my best to hide myself or block attention from me or cover up with some small fig leaf or spiral bound notebook, whatever was at hand. The more I tried to hide my body the more people noticed that I was exposed. I would wake up exhausted from trying to conceal myself. This went on night after night for almost a month.
During that same season I was dealing with normal teenage insecurities in my waking hours. It was exhausting to try to hide the parts of myself I was uncomfortable with. My awkward, oddly plump body slowly metamorphosing from childhood into womanhood. My sometimes babbling speech as my brain and my words tried to sync up properly. My desire to be seen and my desire to blend in constantly at odds. It was a lot to deal with and process.
And every night the same dream. Butt-naked in the middle of some social scene. Desperately trying to hide my exposed self. Every attempt drawing more and more attention to the very thing I was trying to hide.
Then one night something changed.
I don’t know what caused me to approach the nightmare in a different way, but one night, finding myself again wearing nothing but a grimace in the middle of a crowded parking lot, I reached a moment of decision. I was hiding behind a parked car and suddenly I was done. I didn’t care anymore. I was so tired of hiding, concealing, evading. I was tired of this same dream every night having the same outcome. So I said “screw it”, stood up and walked, shoulders back, chin out, bare assed through the parking lot and into the building. Completely exposed. Completely aware of my exposure. Completely done with caring about it. And to my astonishment nobody seemed to notice that I was naked! I progressed through the entirety of the dream with all its random scenes, nude the whole way through and no one even side-eyeing me over it.
I woke up, not feeling rested but released. It struck me that this dream had implications for my waking life as well. What if my attempts at camouflaging my insecurities were actually what was drawing the negative attention I was so desperate to avoid? So I experimented with half-assing confidence. The next time I was in a social gathering I simply ignored the fact that I was insecure. I walked in, shoulders back, chin up, fully aware of my insecurities and yet not making any attempts to conceal them. I sauntered into a group of my peers and chose to not care that I felt exposed, vulnerable, bare-assed naked emotionally. And the craziest thing happened. Nothing. Nothing happened. No one took notice. No one side-eyed me. No one even looked me over quizzically. It was as if by magic. But it wasn’t magic. It was half-assed confidence. And it worked.
Lesson learned: half-assed confidence garners less negative responses than full-ass attempts at concealing insecurities.
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