Chronicle Moment

(This was created about a month ago, maybe more, but the feelings have returned...slightly. Bottom line, it needs to be said/posted)
Peace. Inner peace to be more precise. This is something I really struggle with. Shocker, I know. I don’t always appear to be the inner-battle type, but often times I am. Upholding an image of rock solid confidence and strength can be exhausting, especially if all you feel like doing is claiming defeat. I find I struggle most when it becomes a matter of upholding an image my friends have created for me. It’s usually not a drastic image – such as pretending to be clean and sober when in fact I’m a drug addict – but more on the subtle side of things. And it’s random things too. Like the way I eat, or my attitudes towards fitness, or which mind-numbing pass time I prefer (confession: stripping down to my skivvies and dancing around my apartment while listening to my Zune is my number one choice).

Okay, we all know I have a big appetite (no question there), but when did I allow myself to fall into the role of Champion Eater in Training, to the point where if I truthfully claim I’m full I’m met with disconcerted looks by my friends? Sometimes I find myself ‘powering through’ even though I’m stuffed. Why? Because I’m afraid my friends will think less of me if I don’t uphold that image? Because I’m afraid that if that’s not who I am, I’ve somehow lost myself?

We all know I’m not big on eating vegetables either, but when did I allow the phrase “I don’t eat green vegetables” become my tagline? The truth is, I think green vegetables are the only one’s I do eat (aside from corn and the occasional carrot). I purchased not one, but two zucchinis the other day, and had to endure the wrath of my friend’s concept of me and my poor eating habits when she looked at me and said “A zucchini? Really? I didn’t think you ate zucchini. You know that’s not a cucumber, right?” (Well, have you been to the store with my every time I’ve gone since the beginning of time? No. For all you know I only eat zucchini when you’re not looking) Two things about this irked me. A.) I’m not stupid, I know the difference between a cucumber and a zucchini and B.) Zucchini is part of the cucumber family, so technically it is a cucumber. Imagine the look of shock on her face if I had picked up asparagus! Or broccoli! Or a squash! (Okay, I don’t actually like squash all that much, but let’s pretend for emphasis).

Who have I let myself become? Or really, who have I let my friends think I am? This seems a bit of a harsh phrase to attach to food choices, but it’s the same idea. I’ve let my friends think I’m a bacon craving, veggie hating, human garbage disposal (I phrase I regrettably used to describe myself once). To the point where when I do make a healthy food choice (like *gasp* eating a zucchini), they are baffled by it. They even have the audacity to say “Who are you? What have you done with Casey?” A friend of mine last night offered me his leftovers (in order to get me to pour him some more kool-aid), to which I replied “No thanks, I just ate, I’m not hungry.” His disturbingly accurate response was “Like that’s ever stopped you before.”

The more I think about it, the more hurtful it all is. I’ve never thought of myself as someone who gives in to an image (at least not for awhile) and lose myself, my own thoughts and feelings, in the process. It makes me feel submissive – okay cripplingly disturbed look, you win. As if I don’t believe in myself enough to say “Hey, back off, your perception of me is totally fucked up.” A lot of what my friends think about me is true – I have a huge appetite, I LOVE bacon, I don’t eat many vegetables (well, I didn’t used to), I have been known to be hungry two hours after I eat – but it’s hurtful when they don’t accept the other things that are true – I do believe in physical activity, I like to eat some vegetables, I do get full, I do stop eating.

It’s unsettling when the moment hits you – where you realize that some of your actions are more motivated by what others think of you than what you think about yourself. I find sometimes I shy away from telling people about choices or resolutions I’ve made, because I’m…afraid seems most fitting…of what revealing this idea will do to their concept of me. But what am I so afraid of?! Are my friends really going to break up with me if I confess that I’m aiming to consume more vegetables, or document my expedition towards Zen, or replace chasing after men with yoga? Are they really going to break up with me if I stand up to them and say “Listen up! I eat zucchini, I think fitness is important, I can cook given the opportunity, I don’t want to get cable because I don’t want TV to rule my life, and I don’t care if I don’t dress my age, who made you the boss?”

The sad part about all of this is that the ones who should be reading this probably won’t. I don’t know if they’ve held on to the fact that I’m a writer, or if they’ve taken my failed attempts to finish a manuscript as evidence that I’m not serious about it, or they just choose to see me as the comic relief who spends all of her free time on Facebook (which is only partially true). Sometimes I feel like my closest friends don’t really know me at all – and that truly saddens me. But other times, I feel like they are the only ones who see me, who assist me in finding myself when I feel lost. So…what to do? Am I exaggerating this inner struggle? Or am I exacerbating it? Do I stand up, confess, and retaliate to my friends? Or sit back and let the storm pass? If I were a client of mine, I’d probably tell myself to confront my friends the next time they make a comment that irked me, or come clean about some of the things I’ve been thinking. Easier said than done.