The past sixth months of my life have changed quite a bit. On the bright side, I’ve come to see how much I’ve changed since college, mostly for the better, I think. I’ve also started to understand what I really want and need as a person (“started” is also a very conscious choice of words). Now, this isn’t a grandiose exposé about how I’ve learned so much about myself, instead, just an little story about an event that stuck with me.
Recently, I found myself out at a bar with a friend and a couple which I had met before. The couple is nice enough, just acquaintances. Some alcohol entered the equation and we struck up some conversation. After a bit, we got on the subject of the aforementioned “different” times for me, and how those times started with the ending of a rather long relationship.
One of the most difficult parts of the whole transition was the realization that I have to learn how to make friends again. I’m no longer in college, living in a dorm, seeing people I know every day at class. Now, I’m probably the first to admit that I’m not the most extroverted person in the world, so this prospect is a bit terrifying. Most of the time, I’m rather content to spend time alone. Getting out of my home is typically something I have to really commit to and then push myself to follow through on. Otherwise, I’ll just convince myself there’s a number of really good reasons why I shouldn’t go out and do something.
After I explained this, the strangest thing happened: I was told “Really? You seem to be pretty outgoing!”.
And that was it. I was floored. It’s such a simple thing to say, but it really meant a lot to me. Trying to be outgoing and meet new people was something that took a lot of conscious effort. To know that someone thought that I was outgoing and “normal” really meant a lot.
Looking back on the evening, it seems so silly, so simple. But, you know what, it was nice. It felt like a glimpse into the future. Like I’m doing ok.
I’m doing ok.