My Name is Ellie, And I'm A Recovering Transmogrifier

A wonderful, wise, funny woman I knew in recovery (sadly, she passed away on New Year's Eve) used to say all the time, "what other people think of me is none of my business".

For a long time, I laughed when she said this, because it's funny.    But I think I'm only now beginning to understand the deeper meaning behind the humor.

See, I'm all up in other peoples' heads, way more than I should be.    I have always been hyper-observant; I scan a room full of people, watch facial expressions and gesticulations and draw all sorts of conclusions in my head.  See that woman, how she's leaning away from her husband?   They had a fight tonight.    And her, over there, who keeps looking at the floor, she feels completely out of place.   And that couple holding hands so tightly their knuckles are white?   They are either deeply in love or they want the world to think they are.    I can go on and on like this.  I have no idea if my observations are correct, but I can no better stop them than I could breathing.   It's just the way I'm hardwired.   I see everything.  

Maybe it was because I was a shy, introspective kid.     I felt out of place most of the time, and watching how other people moved through the world gave me clues on how to, well, be.    Shape-shifting 101.    It is a craft I fine-tuned over many years.   I never really understood myself, so I'd quickly figure out who you wanted me to be, and transmogrify into that person right before your eyes.   I was very good at it.     So good at it, in fact, that I lost all sense of me.    This didn't bother me when I was drinking; it came in very handy, in fact.    Alcohol was the liquid mortar that held my characters together.   In a sense, I was method acting all the time. 

It's a different story now that I'm sober.   The past two and a half years have been spent trying to piece myself together from the inside out.    I used to draw my entire sense of self-worth from external cues;  if you were happy with me, I was happy with me.   End of story.   

If I'm going to be successful drawing my sense of self-worth from the inside, I can't be spending too much time all up in other peoples' heads.   It is one thing to pass the time at a boring party by trying to figure people out through their facial reactions and body language.   It is another thing altogether to think every facial tic, innuendo, or gesture is all about me.     

If someone glances over my shoulder while we're talking, or blinks slowly, or looks down at the floor - I'm crushed.    Oh man, I'm boring them, they just saw someone over there they would rather talk to, I'm making a pathetic fool of myself.    I can get all that from a blink or a glance.    Imagine what I can do with words.

I can spend hours ruminating over someone's turn of phrase until I've turned a passing remark in to a scathing dissertation about me and everything I've ever stood for.   Or thought I've stood for.    It is tiring, and it gets me exactly nowhere, because instead of reaching within myself, I'm scrabbling for clues from everyone around me.   But it's a tough habit to break. 

Because, really, if I'm comfortable with who I am, what I believe, what I want from life, it doesn't matter what you think.    I'm trying to strike that delicate balance between wanting you to like me, and not altering my sense of self in the process.

So: what other people think of me is none of my business.  If I'm not spending all my mental energy wondering about what you think of me, I can figure out what I think of me.

But you still like me, right?  RIGHT?