Clueless Twenties

  It took me a surprisingly long time to get here. Not because I believed everyone should like me. In fact, I have never been a people pleaser in the traditional sense. I wasn't the person who bent over backwards for approval or changed entire parts of myself to fit into rooms I didn't belong in. But if I'm being honest, I carried some of the tendencies. I cared more than I admitted. I replayed conversations after they ended. I wondered whether I had said too much, been too loud, come across the wrong way, offended someone unintentionally, or made myself difficult to love. Not because I wanted everyone to like me. But because I wanted to be understood. And for a long time, I confused the two. Somewhere along the way, I developed this quiet expectation that if people truly saw my intentions, they would understand me. That if I explained myself clearly enough, showed enough kindness, extended enough grace, then misunderstandings would resolve themselves. Life, however, has a ...