You know those friends who incessantly apologize for being annoying?
It's an interesting phenomenon, because I don't know about you, but as far as I'm concerned — it's actually those people most conscious of their risk of becoming irritating that I find the least, well...irritating. At first, at least.
Typically, it's those who are oblivious to their own ability to irritate, that are the infuriating ones.
As someone who's also very consistently afraid of being obnoxious, I find this notion reassuring.
And also disconcerting.
I mean, are we so entrenched in our own insecurities that we're unable to see the truth in our actions? Are there certain hang-ups that run so deep, even reassurances from those nearest and dearest to us fail to ameliorate the anxiety? And what does this mean for how we're able to mature - both as individuals and as social beings?
Will we ever be able to see ourselves for what we are, or will we forever be projecting our own insecurities onto our interactions with others, tainting each and every one?
I, for example, consistently (and apparently overzealously) assert that I am, without a doubt, weird. To even begin to think otherwise feels...uncomfortable. As if failing to aggressievly and preventatively, propone that I am that which I fear would mean that I am not only weird, but unaware of the fact that I am so —an oversight more damning than the quality itself.
But don't I then become that of which I'm afraid?
Where is the line between thinking I'm weird, saying I'm weird, and eventually being treated and acting like I'm weird? Or annoying? Or abrasive or shy or crazy?
How much of our self-identities are authentic expressions of inner qualities, and how much are self-prophetic expressions of inner fears?
Thoughts thoughts thoughts.