Thank You Anonymous and Thank You Mom

Mothers are so under appreciated.  They know us better than our classmates, than our friends, than maybe even our fathers.  Better than we know ourselves.

They detect the subtle changes in our mood when something goes wrong but we try to hide it.  They can see the change in our mannerisms when things are looking up but we don't want to jinx it so we keep it to ourselves.  They can spot good friends when we're too short-sighted.  And spot bad friends when we're too absorbed in the good moments.

My mom said something the other day that made me realize just this.  I was blabbering on about a guy (as usual), a guy I really like.  And she just smiled and said "you don't tell him to shut up".  Now that sounds bad in so many ways.  It makes me sound rude, and the conversation sound silly, and me sound literally like the biggest jerk on the planet.

But if you know me, the way she does, the way I didn't until a few days ago, it makes a lot of sense.

I've lost a lot of people.  A lot of friends.  And because of that, I have a tendency to put up walls and keep people at a distance.  How, do I do this, you may ask?  Sarcasm.  Dry humor.  Empty threats.  Eye rolls.  I'm the girl who says "shut up" and rolls my eyes when all I want is for you to keep talking.  But I can't tell you that, because then you'd know that I care and that when you walk away it'll hurt.  I say "I'm going to punch you in the throat" before I hug you because I'd never actually lay a finger on you but saying I love you is way too scary.

But this guy, I don't threaten him.  I don't roll my eyes.  I don't tell him to shut up.
And I didn't know why until today.  You see, this conversation with my mom was going over and over in my head.  And I wanted to know what was different.

As you all know, or maybe you don't, I struggle with social anxiety.  It's pretty bad, I have to talk myself out of panic attacks on my way to class.  I won't eat at school because the idea makes me so anxious that I get nauseated.  I hate getting out of the car because it makes me feel like I can't breathe.

But this guy, when I'm around him, I'm not nervous.  My hands don't shake.  I can breathe.  I can form an actual sentence without stuttering or tripping over my words.
I don't tell him to shut up because he makes me feel safe.
There's something about the way we work together, something about all the things we have in common that just feels right.  For the first time since I was fifteen, I have someone around that doesn't scare me.  If I need his help, I know he's there, but i also don't feel like I'm bugging him if I just want to talk.

So consider this my anonymous thank you to the kind, fellow artist, who gets the way my brain works.  And thank you to my mom for helping me see him, and see myself, in a way I didn't before.