Hey, They Call Me Connie…

I think.

When I was younger I was a lot more outgoing. I think to some degree we all were. The world was magical place filled with happiness, hugs, and Disney movies that gave me something to wish for. Somewhere between puberty and my first apartment, things began to shift. Heartbreaks lingered without happy endings, money became the fuel of my existence, and nightly news crushed any semblance of security I had.

Please don’t misunderstand, I’m not a pessimist (anymore that is), I just became a realist. At least that’s what I told myself on daily basis, while stacking on more YSL mascara than I could actually afford. Realism became my identity. Maneuvering through the world as a realist made me feel invincible. It’s was like discovering a secret serum that only few had access to. I could see the world for the grimy, disgusting and beautifully tragic place that it was without being crushed by it.

Just when I thought I had mastered my little corner of the earth, here comes social media. Now, before we move any further. I think that it’s important to note that I’m not old. Yes, I was born before social media became a “thing.” Yes, I remember when Facebook was originally for college students and you had to sign up with your school email in order to be “in.” Yes, I remember the original Instagram filters (insert Gingham here, as it was on every photo I posted). Nonetheless, I’m as youthful in my soul as a 3 year old… with about 31 years on top of that and questionable knees. Thank you Meg-the-Stallion for reminding me to take my collagen everyday.

I digress…

The larger social media became, the more I felt lost in its shadows. Who knew that the world I spent so much time daydreaming in was actually filled with “movers and shakers.” I was surrounded by entrepreneurs with thousands of close, personal friends. The hustlers who never slept, took lavish vacations, and wiped their a**es with money that would take me a year to make. As if that weren’t enough, everyone seemed to have gotten the memo that gym time was 20 hours a day, 7 days a week, and anything less than a plate of lettuce and a protein shake was not on the menu.

Definitely missed that email.

Clearly, I wasn’t doing enough. So, like most people I…adjusted. I found a dream and decided to market myself as (insert skill here) on social platforms, hoping that I could become one of the elite blue check mark people that was really had their life together. Whatever that means. Funny thing about trying versus being. If you don’t know who you are, then everything you do feels…off. It’s like buying a pair of shoes without ever knowing if they are in your size. They may be cute, and you could possibly squeeze in them and pull the look off, but ultimately you will walk around looking like an idiot that is trying way too hard. Finding the right fit is much better than buying something for the look or the label. It’s the determining factor between the fashion admirers and those with true style.

If I wasn’t a sheep, or part of the elite, who was I?

I was a ghost. Once I disappeared from the social sphere. I rediscovered privacy. Let me tell you something about privacy… it’s f*cking amazing. Imagine having entire life adventures… and the only people that know about them are you and whoever else is there? Believe it or not, before social media… that would happen all the time. People would take vacations, have dinners, and the only way people would find out is by… get this… TALKING TO OTHER PEOPLE… in real life!

Thanks to a combat tour in Afghanistan, talking to people in a “normal” way became a thing of the past for me. So, here were my stats:

– too introverted to build relationships naturally ✔️

– too much of a misfit for social media ✔️

– no identity due to losing myself in motherhood (1 tenacious little toddler) and being a kicka** wife ✔️

That about covers it. So what next?

Now… I’m working on learning myself. The way I see it, boxing myself in did me no favors. In order to figure out who I am at this stage in my life, it’s time to peel away the anti-social cocoon and learn to fly. What better way to do that than by way of my very first love…writing.

I’m working on finding my place in the world. Figuring out my passions and what I’m good at (if there is anything lol). I’m working on getting “unstuck.”

Let’s see how this is plays out.