Image

As a freshman in highschool, I earned the notoriety of being the “new girl who thinks she’s better than everyone else”. It was not without reason. When asked to share expectations on the first day, I said, “I expect to learn from the best and be held accountable to the highest academic standards.”

Sounds impressive, doesn’t it? Well, not to a bunch of 12- and 13-year-olds who thought I was condescending, arrogant, and elitist. And as if that wasn’t enough to solidify their already unfavorable opinion of me, I gave “too honest” critiques of their work, didn’t “share the credit” to projects I did BY MYSELF, and refused to let anyone copy my answers during exams. That, apparently, was tantamount to social suicide. 

Three friends were all I had that year; but I was okay; I didn’t care much for popularity anyway. However, I did care that people felt I looked down on them and hurt them in some measure. So I compromised and adjusted to more socially acceptable norms. 

Cheating is bad at any level and I wouldn’t encourage anyone to do what I did; but at that time I felt I needed to make up for the hurt I caused. I became very generous to a fault. During exams, I deliberately did not cover my paper so anyone who wanted a peek could copy off it without difficulty, stopped giving honest opinions about the bad work produced by others, and shared the credit equally within a group even though I did most (if not all) of the work. And that earned me another label: “the girl you need to get close to if you need better grades”.

This would seem like I’m some sort of genius or overly smart person; I’m not. I loved school and I enjoyed learning so it wasn’t that hard to get good grades. People, however, had the impression that I was overly smart. And with my newly found “generosity”, suddenly girls from other classes were my friends (I didn’t even know them!). Apparently, my book reports, research write-ups, and other class projects got circulated around until anyone who needs to “get ideas” could get some off it. 

Maybe this was when I learned to keep people at a safe emotional distance; there came a point when it was hard to tell who were friends with me because they liked me for me or who were in it only for the benefits that my friendship afforded them. I became extremely picky about who I let into my circle. That earned me the title “snob”; not only in school but in my neighborhood as well. But I didn’t mind; I had five real friends and I was happy. 

Sometimes people look at you and see only your reputation and the label attached to you. And if you are aware of those labels, you start to question people’s motivations. Why do they want to be your friend? Is it because you’re popular? Head of the student council? Editor of the school paper? Smart? Talented? Athletic? Wealthy? Well-connected? Gorgeous?

It’s okay to be cautious about people’s motives; understandable even. But if you’re always wary of them, always second-guessing, always on the lookout for when they would betray their real intentions, you might miss out on a lot of potentially great friendships. There is wisdom in choosing who to trust, but there is also great freedom in simply trusting in the inherent good in everyone. 

Then there’s the other side of the coin. When you’re hiding a horrible past or a secret that could ruin your reputation or the outside image you project, you walk into a room and wonder which of the ones who are there would still like you if they knew everything about you: the skeletons in your closet, your radical views, your politically incorrect thoughts. 

I have thoughts and ideas that not many would understand; some may even cringe. So I don’t readily share them with anyone I know. But because confession is good for the soul, I share those thoughts online to people who don’t know me; those who will read and not color them based on their perception of who I am and would not be able to add to that perception based on what they have read. Because whether we like it or not, some of the things that we reveal to people we know could drive them away. And what if you care about those people? What then?

The intricacies of human relations is a beautiful thing. It’s not an exact science and the unpredictability of it is both exciting and scary. But one thing is true and consistent: we desire real connections with people. And anything that threatens that possibility terrifies us. So we hide under our shells, put up a facade of strength to cover our weaknesses, and keep our cards close to our hearts. Realizing too late that doing so is the very reason we are alienating ourselves from them.

There is value in wanting to maintain a good reputation among our peers; but oftentimes, that desire acts as a wall that prevents them from coming in. More often than not, the only way to have a deep and meaningful connection with anyone is to stop worrying about our image and bare our souls. So go ahead and be honest about your faults, share your deepest fears with someone, and be utterly vulnerable; it won’t be easy but it would be worth it.

Image