Someone very special to me did a handwriting analysis (graphology) on me recently. In that analysis, he accurately noted that I have a desire or tendency to be unseen.
(It’s amazing how a few strokes of a pen can reveal so much about a person and their character.)
I admit that growing up, I often preferred being alone – hidden, simply because I became used to it. I never quite fit in with others and often was overlooked by everyone around me. And even though I occasionally had friends or playmates, I never really developed close connections with people – friends or family. I was simply that shadow in the corner.
As an adult, I sometimes crave that belongingness. I miss being connected to people, and occasionally regret not having strong connections. I think about cousins that I grew up with who I barely know, the few cousins who are my age who I’ve really never had more than a brief conversation with. I think about the few people from high school who I wanted to stay in contact with, the few people who I shared what was, at the time, a devastating secret. I think about being in a space, disconnected, even in a room full of people whom I see and have shared weekly laughs and card games with for over four years.
But I think about why I tend to be disconnected, why I often remain the invisible one. Trust.
I grew up being both very trusting and distrusting at the same time. I refused to let people know me, because I didn’t really know myself. But I assumed that if they knew me, they wouldn’t like me. So I stayed to myself. As I grew older, I had my trust repeatedly violated by the people who were closest to me – from invasions of privacy to emotional manipulation and damage. People I thought were friends, turned out not to be. I allowed myself to be betrayed by opening myself to those who were not worthy. So I closed off and went back into the shadows.
And despite all of that, a piece of me still yearns to be connected.
The trust issues I have, in conjunction with situations I’ve had with so-called friends, exes, and family, have made me more discerning with people. The few that I have chosen to share myself with are special to me, including the newest among them – who I’ll just refer to as my Vanilla Gangsta. Each of them (and I can count them on one hand with fingers left over) remind me why I enjoy being connected, why I trust, why I laugh, why I share, why I cry, why I love, why I smile, why I dream, why I live.
Even as a lone wolf, I have a pack I can always run with…