I absolutely love without holding back.
When I fall, I fall hard. And when I make friends, they almost instantly become a part of my “family.” Which is why letting people go nearly shatters me. Knowing someone doesn’t want to be part of my life is like losing a part of me.
I’m a major empath.
I cry when anyone cries. My day gets better when I hear laughter. I’m constantly zoned into the feelings of others, and I feel their pain like it is my own.
This has so many major drawbacks, but also so many plus sides.
Someone else’s bad day can ruin my good one. But I can also help them turn their day around.
Someone else’s good day can completely save my bad one. And they don’t even have to do anything for me but have a good mood.
I’m incredibly clumsy.
It’s not cute and quirky like it is in books and movies. All my clothes have stains. I cannot own white. I’m always in pain and covered in bruises. How many times a day can I cry over a stubbed toe? The limit does not exist.
I’m weird in that funny, what the hell are you doing? Kind of way.
I don’t think I would be me without the accents, the funny faces, the random dancing, just the weird. I can’t say I really do it on purpose. But I do love seeing people laugh, even if they’re laughing at my expense. I’ve reached this certain place mentally where I almost don’t get embarrassed by normal things anymore.
I’m deeply passionate.
This sort of goes in hand with the loving without holding back. But passion isn’t limited to relationships. I’m also passionate about fictional characters, music, animals. And when I’ve decided that I believe in this thing, no one can convince me I’m wrong.
Unless I am.
I’m ridiculously dysfunctional.
I cannot organize. Everything I own is in disarray. Sometimes my brain poorly communicates with my body (insert clumsiness here). I’m almost always late. My socks are never mated. I struggle with putting things away.
I genuinely wouldn’t be me if I just “had it together.”
I’m superb at giving advice I cannot follow.
I’m like that ultimate mom friend? I’m so good at listening. I’m so good at giving advice. And I’m so terrible at doing the things that I say. I think I wouldn’t be me without the advice giving part. I suppose I could still be me even if I followed it.
I get frazzle brained when stressed.
Listen, I’m basically always stressed. Which means I’m basically always frazzle brained. My clumsiness and dysfunction lead to life never going according to plan, which causes stress, which means I just….can’t.
But I feel like handling situations in a mellow manner just isn’t me.
Frantically running about as I try to salvage what is left of my sanity is much more my style.
I’m typically pretty optimistic.
Despite my inability to life, I’m usually that voice that says, “But on the bright side” before giving advice.
I don’t think I would be me if I couldn’t see the better aspects of watching my entire life go up in flames.
I never forget things.
Okay, that’s a lie. I’m incredibly forgetful about appointments, dates, and times. But if you told me that your best friends sister had a dog named Marco, I would remember that fifteen years from now and cry about Marco no longer being with us.
I remember the little things people say like nobody’s business, but for some reason, my brain doesn’t remember the important stuff. I guess I have a more functional, adultworthy wife for that?
I’m a hugger.
But I’m a respectful hugger. I definitely don’t just going around hugging people without their permission, but I do make it clear that my arms are always open wide.