The Persona. The Person.

     

     "Or you can take this one..." he gently said.

     "No. That's okay. How about this smaller neon orange one. I always love being an odd ball and making a statement." I say with a cheeky smile.

     He looks a little befuddled.

     "Okay. Whatever you want. It's no problem. Whatever you want. But this one is brand new."

     I look at him suspiciously.

     I walk around the lot for a bit.

     Decisions, decisions, decisions.

     And here I was, I didn't even recognize he was trying to give me an upgrade.

     And there you have it. This is how the pieces have felt like in this season. Not being able to outrightly recognize most of the good and the just things happening around me.

     Circumstances have been weird.

     I met someone.


     Okay. I didn't "meet" someone.

     But my friend did. I just happened to be there for the important part.

     They briefly knew of each other, connected online and decided to finally make a date of it.

     But let's talk about the space between the persona and the person.

     We're all guilty of it.

     In fact, I'm in love with someone's online persona as we speak.

     But I'm more aware now then ever, that a persona is not a person.

     The way in which we fill in the blanks about a human being are quite fascinating. Especially in this day and age of social media.

     We present our best selves.

     Those moments in which we feel exhilarated, loved, or passionate are then displayed on our numerous pages, news feeds, and profiles, leaving the poor reader to naturally piece together a beautiful symphony of sorts, when in fact our true lives sound more like Morse code. A different melody altogether.

     I'm also convinced more than ever, that face to face human contact and connection can never be replaced or substituted by our profiles, texts, emails, virtual chats, and other technological advances (ironically) meant to connect us and to provide a way of "knowing".

     These tools have now become swords of sorts and seem to inhibit the very thing they were meant to foster.

     So my friend adored and celebrated his persona.

     But the person she met left no space for such a persona. He in fact was lovely. But just not "that kind of lovely"--you know, not "persona lovely."

     And as such, a conflict then played out.

     What you think you're getting. You're not.

     The outer didn't match the inner.

+++

     I do this weird thing.

     When I look at fashion magazines, I always try to imagine what the voice of that particular model (male or female) would sound like. And you know what. I'm wrong EVERY TIME.

     Their voice never ends up sounding the way I think it "should" sound. Or how I thing it "would" sound. I like to call this the "David Beckham Phenomena".

     When I first saw David years and years ago on a soccer print ad. I immediately thought I knew what his voice would sound like...Like most of you thought...

     And then, when you hear him talk, it's almost a bit jarring.

     You're like..."Um, I'm sorry, what................? But you still FINE though."

     But now, funny enough, I've come to love David's ironic voice of sorts.

     And I think that's how it goes.

     The unfolding of our true selves will either connect us to those people that we are meant to be connected with or repel them.

     Not everyone will "get us", "love us", or even "like us" and that's okay.

     But if we never unravel the persona of ourselves first, we will be presenting people with a false promise of which they will expect you to tap dance out every time you're in their company.

     And you'll be living out a dead-end masquerade ball of sorts--a nonstop cycle of feeling exhausted, confused, and resentful--with an added dash of a fear of committing to people, places, and callings.

     So let the persona go.

     Get undressed and let the real you, the real person be seen and known--in all its ugly, its terrific, its beautiful...and in all its splendor.

+++

     I'm more suspicious these days.

     What you see is not always what you get.

     But I took a risk out there on that car rental lot. And the luxury car he suggested I go for, I ended up saying yes to.

     It all felt a little strange.

     I never go for first class. Second best has always been good enough for me. I wouldn't normally say that out loud, so I've written it down instead.

     "Am I being charged extra for this nicer car?" I say with my eyes almost closed to anticipate the damage.

     "No. No. Of course not. I wanted to give it to you with no extra charge....

     ...Because I liked your name..."

Wisdom's Knocking:

"At your absolute best, you still won't be good enough for the wrong person.

At your worst, you'll still be worth it to the right person."

- Kimberly Jones-Pothier