What do you see?

 
Have you ever wondered what people see when they look at you? I’ve thought about it a lot throughout my life. I am just curious about people’s honest first impressions. When I was a kid, I was skinny and scrawny, had coke bottle glasses and a bad shake from my CP. For the majority of the people I met I knew what they saw in me, I could read it in their face as easily as I could read a book. WEAKNESS. For some people this made me a source of their pity, they would feel sorry for me and “try to help” me in the most condescending ways. I don’t want or need your pity; weak is not what or who I am. For others, this perceived weakness made me a target. A target to take advantage of, push around, mean mouth and extort. For a long time I took that kind of treatment and bought into the fact that I was somehow less than them and this was just the way of the world. I spent many nights asking GOD why he made me different and why I couldn’t just be “normal”.
Then one day everything just snapped and seemed to come together for me. I embraced my differences, they are what make me, ME. They are what make me unique. So I started fighting back, I rebelled and raged against anyone and anything that told me I couldn’t do something. I would become an unstoppable force and I would and will leave my mark upon this world. This realization started the pendulum to swing the other way for me, but all of my pent up anxiety and anger swung it to the extreme.
I spent the better part of my teenage and early twenties getting into fights just to prove how tough I was. I started lifting weights and bulking up. I grew confident cocky and belligerent. I would get into fist fights with anyone over anything. If someone told me they were having a hard time with somebody, I would “take care of it” for them. My favorite line was “What are you looking at? You can’t beat me!” It was like I had to keep proving to myself and the world that I wasn’t weak. I portrayed every tough guy characteristic I had ever seen from movies or people I looked up to. This led me to be viewed as a meathead or a two bit hooligan. I had turned into one of the bullies I had hated as a kid.
Because of this I have very few friends. People don’t want to get close to me, because I really must be the asshole I made myself out to be. It’s taken me a long time to break this macho man, tough guy demeanor that is a second skin for me. But I am getting there; I’m so much more than weak or strong. I’m a nicer guy than I ever have been. I’m trying to smile and laugh more and leave the mean mug at home. Wag more, Bark less, you know what I am saying. I’m a father, a husband, and a good friend. I’m slowly becoming a hippie farmer with my garden and chickens. I give good advice. I am so much more than a single word descriptor. I am ME!
I still teeter totter between seeing myself as that weak kid and the meathead when I catch people looking at me when I eat my sandwich between my index and middle fingers instead of my thumb and fingers, or when my head bobs and shakes, or just when my lips twitch. But I am infinitely more confident in who I am than I was.
The point is people are so much more than that first impression. In this world it is so hard not to be judgmental. It’s hard not to meet someone and instantly size them up and pigeonhole them before you even shake their hand. I am just as guilty as the next person of this, but I am trying to rectify that. I am trying to give people the benefit of the doubt and get to know them. Ask people questions, have a conversation, don’t make assumptions. Give people a genuine shot and listen to what they have to say before writing them off.
These are just my thoughts of the day, take them for what their worth…