I Showed All My Cards, And I'll Do It Again and Again

I managed to "embarrass" myself again...oh well.

Who am I if I don't love everyone and everything around me loudly? And how would they know it if I don't tell them?

Yep, I told him, and incidentally all of his friends, that I was into him. Like a lot. And you guessed it... it wasn't exactly reciprocated in the same way. The ego took a hit (but that's good for me every once in a while).

I am a woman who knows my worth so I am not spending my effort or energy on something more than friends with him. But I can appreciate his honesty and that he enjoys talking to me and my company without wanting anything more. So yah, it was a little embarrassing. But we both got to be completely honest with another person. I got to share my heart and he gets to know that people are willing to do that with him.

I let him see all of my cards. But I am never too worried about winning anyway.

To Hell With The Nonchalant BS

It is cool to care. The apathy I see in just about everything these days actually disgusts me. Yes, sometimes it is not that deep. But you know what is ALWAYS deep? Caring, being excited, generosity, joy, kindness, forgiveness, and hope.

There is something so strange about how desirable we have decided it is to be nonchalant. Don't text too quickly. Don't seem too excited. Don't tell someone you like them until you are absolutely certain they like you first. Don't let anyone know they have gotten to you. Whatever you do, don't give someone the satisfaction of knowing you care more.

To hell with that.

I don't want to spend my life calculating who should text first or how long I should wait to respond or whether I am being "too much." I don't want to turn genuine connection into some kind of strategy game where the person who cares the least wins.

What exactly are we winning?

I would rather be honest and occasionally embarrassed than perfectly calculated and constantly wondering what might have happened if I had just said what I meant.

If I like you, I want you to know. If I miss you, I'm telling you. If I am proud of you, I am going to say it.

And if you don't feel the same way? Okay.

I would rather know.

There is something freeing about being willing to hear "no." It means I don't have to build an entire relationship out of hints, assumptions and imaginary conversations. Life is too short for that. My energy is too precious for that. I can just put the truth on the table and let someone decide what they want to do with it.

Actually, I Still Love Everyone I Have Ever Met

I don't have time to stop loving people. I have had some really horrible things done to me and said to me. But for whatever reason, I still love those people.

Loving someone and still interacting with them regularly are two different things. I've forgiven these things and chose to love anyway. Like the tattoo on my left bicep says, they still have "all my love." There is not a drop of bad blood I have for anyone.

I don't want to carry hatred around just because someone gave me a reason to. I don't want my memories of people to be defined by the worst thing they ever did to me. People are complicated. I am complicated. I've hurt people, too. I've been selfish and stubborn and said things I wish I could take back. I have been the person who needed forgiveness.

So I want to be generous with it.

I still love the people who hurt me. I love the people who disappointed me. I love the people who became strangers. I love the people I will probably never speak to again.

If this is how I consider people who have maybe hurt me or have fallen away, I think it is even cooler how I let myself treat and think of new people I am excited about!

Enthusiasm is Not a Flaw

If growing up means I have to stop running to my friends when I finally see them or stop jumping on the trampoline with my cousins or writing down the thoughts in my head, I am never doing it.

I think sometimes I have confused maturity with indifference.

Like growing up means learning how to care a little less. Like being cool means being harder to impress. Like being confident means you don't get excited about people or experiences or possibilities because you are too secure to need any of it.

But I don't think I want that kind of confidence.

I like being excited. I like having something to look forward to. I like getting way too excited when someone I love tells me good news. I like making plans and talking about them too much and sending the song I just discovered to five different people. I like telling someone exactly why I think they are wonderful.

I like being the person who says, "You have to come with me," or "You would love this," or "I think you two should meet."

I don't want to become someone who has to pretend those things don't matter to her.

Because enthusiasm is vulnerable. When you are enthusiastic, people know what you care about. They know what makes you happy. They know who you love. They know what you are hoping for.

And sometimes people can disappoint you once they know. They can use it against you to hurt you the most that they can. But I think that risk is worth it.

Sometimes your excitement makes someone else feel loved. Sometimes telling someone you believe in them is exactly what they needed to hear. Sometimes being the person who cares loudly gives someone else permission to care loudly, too.

So maybe I will embarrass myself again.

I probably will. No. I know I will.

Maybe I will misread a situation or get too excited or show someone more of my heart than they know what to do with. Maybe I will care more than someone else does.

I am willing to take that risk.

Because I don't want to spend the rest of my life trying to become less enthusiastic just because enthusiasm makes me easier to hurt.

I think there are worse things to be.

I think I would rather be a little embarrassing than a little indifferent.

If showing all my cards means everyone gets to see that I cared, that I loved them, that I was excited to be here, then fine.

I'll show them.

Again and again.

Because how lucky are we to get to play!

All my love,

Neva