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I think my life is a delicate dance where I generally and typically hide my true feelings from people. I’ve been doing it for so long that I really don’t know how to act or behave any other way, and so typically when asked if something is wrong I tell them I’m fine. Usually, I’m not. I put on the brave face and muddle through, not for my sake but for their’s.

Why do I do this? Well, sometimes they’ve inadvertently hurt me and I really don’t want to confront them about it. The hurt will eventually ebb and go away – even if sometimes there’s a lingering sense of betrayal. I know, or hope, they didn’t mean to do the thing that hurt me, and there’s a part of me that’s sure they didn’t know they were doing it.

All other times I just fall back to being a turtle, shelling up and not letting people past those barriers. Being a turtle is something I learned at an early age. I can’t remember when or why it happened; it was just something I always did – closed people out. It’s what comes easiest and naturally to me. It’s not that I really/want/ to be a turtle. I don’t. I just don’t know how to let myself be exposed to others.

I can imagine I am this way because of the way my family dealt with things, quietly and behind hushed doors to hide their shame and keep their pride in tact. I think I could also be this way because I’m also particularly gullible and tend to believe the things people say, for the most part. I’ve gotten burned on more than one occasion for believing in someone or something they did.

It’s hard to move past either thing, but it’s something I think I want to eventually do. I need to crush those lingering fears that in the process I might hurt someone else or make them mad at me, if it happens it happens. In the long run, I might be a better person for it.



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Nynrose - Lisa Christie
Cuendillar MUSH

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