The External

I am who I am. I don't know when I stopped making apologies for it, but I have. I have friends and family who love me. And if someone doesn't like, doesn't understand, or doesn't care for me, that's their situation.

That's not to say that I don't process it, I do. I find the way people respond to me interesting, maybe even fascinating. Both the good and the bad. I think this is largely due to the fact that I don't think I see myself the same way other people see me.

Years ago in high school, I'd irritated a friend of mine. I don't know what I'd done to upset him, nor do I have any idea the exact context of the conversation anymore, but at some point he said something to the effect of, "You're very magnetic and people are drawn to you whether they want to be or not."

Fast forward several years. Seated in a car late one night in a Wal-Mart parking lot with a very close friend, I grilled him about why he hadn't let me into his life. He looked at me, dumbfounded at my accusation. I'd heard from a mutual friend that he suffered terrible depressive episodes. I'd always thought we were close, but how close could we possibly be if he didn't share them with me? When I pushed him on this, he responded,"Don't you get it, Lyndsy? I don't feel that way when I'm with you. You're my high."

Not too long after that, I got into an argument with a guy who was a friend of mine. We were sort of close at the time, but hadn't known each other for long. I'd spent some time working on student government stuff at the University of Florida, but most of my time was dedicated to helping a friend of mine achieve his various goals. My friend scolded me for never doing it for myself, that I should have been the one running for office, leading the student senate. I just laughed and relayed the story to another friend of mine, expecting him to join in. My friend calmly replied (with only a slight bit of exasperation), "He's right."

Move forward another few years. I flew home from Michigan to surprise my grandmother at her 75th birthday party. (Try not to mention I've divulged her age the next time you see her.) She wanted to take her birthday as an opportunity to share her thoughts, feelings, and memories about all of the kids and grandkids present. She wasn't expecting me so she didn't have any remarks prepared. But when she got to me, she said, "And Lyndsy. Well Lyndsy was just magical. Everyone loved Lyndsy."

I've been a terrible student since high school. I put forth the minimal effort to get through a class, and still have met with reasonable academic success. Throughout all of my education, only two professors have called me out for my lack of effort. One flat out told me that he was disappointed in me, had heard remarkable things about me, and that I'd failed to meet his expectations. He *knew* I wasn't touching my potential. Another really just expressed frustration with the fact that I wasn't doing more to exercise my intelligence. Yes, he'd given me As, but he knew the work was far beneath what I was capable of.

The point of this isn't for me to chronicle what an incredible individual I am. That's obvious. All kidding aside, and frankly, in spite of what I've laid out above, I never saw any of those things about myself. I had friends in high school, but didn't feel particularly "magnetic." I had no idea I could impact anyone so much as to make them forget, even for a little while, how upset they were about something.

Someone I met in law school once said I confused him, because for all the ego I displayed, I somehow still had a poor concept of myself. He couldn't understand how I walked around every day, a complete contradiction.

And now I sit here wondering how and why it is that I don't see these things about myself.

In some ways I'm sure it's a great thing I don't. Could you imagine the ego monster I would be if I did? I'm sure we can all think of someone in our lives who does have a grasp on their...powers...and abuses them.

It also makes me wonder how many other people so blatantly ignore some of the best parts of themselves because they don't trust and internalize the good things people say about them. What they might be missing out on in their own lives because of it.

Which makes me wonder what *I* might have been missing out on. I firmly believe that if you have a gift, you have a responsibility to exercise it for the betterment of the friends, family, society at large. If what others have said about me for over 10 years now is really true, I've squandered something very valuable.

I've always felt very isolated from the people around me. Trapped in a world where no one understood me. Slogging through days and years, searching desperately to find some kind of connection to someone else. In writing about this though, I'm coming to believe that it wasn't other people who didn't understand me, but rather me who didn't understand myself. I am who I am, but who am I?