Mis-Reading the Room

Mis-Reading the Room as an Art Form

My expertise lies, not in reading the room accurately, but in mis-reading it…and acting discordingly. I have a particular knack for trusting the wrong people, and invariably, pissing off the popular kids, the ones in power, and the charismatic ones everyone follows without question. The trouble is, I see through the masks and glamours, and believe everyone else does…much to my ultimate downfall.

Many’s the time I’ve either had to eat crow, or leave the scene of my most recent alleged crime. Just as I’m one of the rare few who dreams in color, and remembers many of my dreams, I’m also one of the few to notice the naked Emperor; the man behind the curtain; the desperate need for attention behind the charismatic smile. I’m still learning to accept what I recognize as fake, others are drawn to like flies, and nothing I can say or do is going to clear the clouds from their eyes. In fact, trying to do so only makes me look bad in the long run.

The funny thing is, I’m not the loner some believe me to be. I’m simply attracted to honesty; to authenticity; to people who own their broken parts as well as their strengths; who know they’ll always be works in progress, and accept the challenge. Those folks are surprisingly hard to find because fitting in has been drummed into our heads since the cradle. But if you’re honest with yourself, what has fitting in every really given you that’s truly worth having?

• Fitting in means stifling your own wants, needs, and desires.
• Fitting in means behaving the way you think someone else wants you to.
• Fitting in means being untrue to yourself.

Why Try to Hard to Fit In?

As Dr. Seuss so wisely said: “Why fit in when you were meant to stand out?” What he didn’t mention was, standing out can be a lonely proposition in a world where everyone else is trying to fit in. Seeing through everyone else’s facades doesn’t make you a welcome party guest. Those walls and masks are in place for a reason. People are afraid to be themselves as it might mean not fitting in.

I’ve never been comfortable trying to fit in where I didn’t belong, though heaven knows I’ve made the mistake of trying too often. Deep down, as I notice a mask slipping here or there, and believe there might be a sympathetic soul, I’ve been slapped down, not only for noticing, but for believing it was safe to slip behind that mask and share my observations.

Sadly, some of the most broken, empty souls I’ve encountered are the ones who’ve perfected their act so well, everyone loves the face they show the world, but no one loves who they really are, because they never let it show. Yet they’ve convinced themselves it doesn’t matter as long as everyone loves them. Admittedly, though it wouldn’t be enough for me, maybe it truly is enough for them. I can’t walk in their shoes, so I have no way of knowing, and by the time I start forming a picture of the face behind the mask, I’m already walking out the door, either voluntarily, or by a horde of angry followers, my own reputation in tatters once again.

Hope Springs Eternal

For some reason, I continue searching for my tribe; my people; the ones who aren’t putting on an act; who are comfortable in their imperfect skin. I know they’re out there, but I also know they’ve been burned as many times as I have…maybe more. Many finally learned to be cautious, and trust extremely slowly; a lesson I’m still working on.

I’ll continue to work on my reading skills, but it’ll have to be from a safe distance right now, with my shields up to maximum; maybe even “stun”. I need time and space to heal the wounds received in my latest skirmish, and to re-establish trust in my own feelings. One of the lessons I take away from this round is to trust my feelings even if I have no evidence; even if I don’t understand why the atmosphere has changed. The truth may or may not come to light, but my feelings are never wrong, despite the efforts others may make to have me mistrust them.

I may not be able to accurately read a room, but by now, I’ve been shown over and over my feelings are the most accurate tool I have.

Grateful Even for the Painful Lessons

My gratitudes today are:

1. I’m grateful for lessons that remind me to trust my feelings.
2. I’m grateful for lessons that remind me to trust people a lot more cautiously.
3. I’m grateful for refusing to stop searching for more people who will earn my long-term trust. I know they’re out there somewhere.
4. I’m grateful for the few I know I can trust, even with some of my crappiest moments.
5. I’m grateful for more time to spend writing, reading, and cuddling with my cats.

About the Author

Sheri Conaway is a Holistic Ghostwriter, and an advocate for cats and mental health. Sheri believes in the Laws of Attraction, but only if you are a participant rather than just an observer. Her mission is to Make Vulnerable Beautiful and help entrepreneurs touch the souls of their readers and clients so they can increase their impact and their income.