Salt

I am afraid of collaboration.

I put so much weight on the opinions people have of me, and I never really realized it until we became friends. I care that people think I’m funny all the time. I care that people think I’m put together nicely. I care that people think I’m laid back or fun or spontaneous. I care that people know I’ve known about those things, too. I care that people think I have something to say. But I am not all of those things all the time.

I am not always funny, and sometimes I am an emotional wreck. I’m not always collected, or fun, and sometimes I need to plan out the details. I don’t always have something to say. And sometimes I haven’t heard about this or that.

And that’s okay.

And I need to be okay with that.

Because we will still be friends.

Paying so much attention to what I think you think prohibits me from being valid. I become disabled by my own ideals and images of how I think you see me. I don’t typically voice things because of the immense pressure I put on myself to always make you happy or please you or make sure you have the right perception of me.

It’s exhausting.

And it has made me stale.

I will become seasoned again.