Yup, it's so funny how people will latch onto something (or many things) they know about you—they are sticky little things—innocent—it becomes how they define you, and then they share that knowledge with others when something that comes up reminds them of you. I get tons of pictures and videos of donkeys from friends on social media; sometimes they are sharing something a friend sent to them to send to me because they told their friend that I love donkeys. (It’s touching and a little uncomfortable.) I've had friends and relatives explain to others the things I'm wild about (or things that have unpleasant associations), so when I've met them for the first time, they act like they know all about me (not quite, but it's a start); I get to fill in the blanks. It's an odd feeling to learn that I've been talked about (it’s a suspicious “check your shoe to make sure you didn't step in dog poo” sort of "sticky" feeling; I’ve scribbled poetry about this feeling over the years). Too many of these meetings require me to correct the story they've heard, or assumptions they've made; I want to give them context, but I know darn well they won't remember; they will remain stuck with what they first heard. I’ve experienced so many odd conversations about myself with people I barely know because of something somebody said. (Eye roll.) It's weird being the "weird girl." I'm very guilty of making an exit plan during these conversations, such as finding another person to join in so I can walk away and not feel bad about leaving. Jeez Christmas trees, navigating other people—it’s exhausting!
That "sticky" feeling’s such a good way to describe it. Really captures how one piece of us can end up becoming the version people carry around even when it's only a tiny part of who we are.
Yup, it's so funny how people will latch onto something (or many things) they know about you—they are sticky little things—innocent—it becomes how they define you, and then they share that knowledge with others when something that comes up reminds them of you. I get tons of pictures and videos of donkeys from friends on social media; sometimes they are sharing something a friend sent to them to send to me because they told their friend that I love donkeys. (It’s touching and a little uncomfortable.) I've had friends and relatives explain to others the things I'm wild about (or things that have unpleasant associations), so when I've met them for the first time, they act like they know all about me (not quite, but it's a start); I get to fill in the blanks. It's an odd feeling to learn that I've been talked about (it’s a suspicious “check your shoe to make sure you didn't step in dog poo” sort of "sticky" feeling; I’ve scribbled poetry about this feeling over the years). Too many of these meetings require me to correct the story they've heard, or assumptions they've made; I want to give them context, but I know darn well they won't remember; they will remain stuck with what they first heard. I’ve experienced so many odd conversations about myself with people I barely know because of something somebody said. (Eye roll.) It's weird being the "weird girl." I'm very guilty of making an exit plan during these conversations, such as finding another person to join in so I can walk away and not feel bad about leaving. Jeez Christmas trees, navigating other people—it’s exhausting!
That "sticky" feeling’s such a good way to describe it. Really captures how one piece of us can end up becoming the version people carry around even when it's only a tiny part of who we are.
I can't tell you how much I love this 💜
Thank you for saying so, I appreciate it 🤗