“Living out of the false self creates a compulsive desire to present a perfect image to the public so that everybody will admire us and nobody will know us.” ~ Brennan Manning, The Rabbi’s Heartbeat

I can’t say that there was a time in my life when I tried to portray myself as anything more than what I am, but there have been plenty of times when people have assumed me to be more than I am. While I have never intentionally embellished my persona to win the approval of others, I certainly never offered my weaknesses and failures for public consumption. No, we keep those close to our chest. So my silence indicts me still.

Our sense of what really matters goes through an evolution as we continue to grow. Like all humans I spent the better portion of my life hoping to be liked, to be accepted. Realizing what was required to be accepted by some people, I opted to be considered odd by those in hopes of counting others as friends. I grew more and more comfortable being my own person, but enjoying the favor of others never grew tiresome.

I lived too long with a flawed belief that if people really knew me, the real me, that they wouldn’t like me. Regarding some that’s probably true, but I came to painfully learn that those who despised me most were those that did not really know me at all. For the last few years it seems for me the sum of life’s purpose is to know and to be known. At this point in my life I would much rather be known than to be accepted. If those that take the time to truly know me also choose to accept me, I will not think more of myself but will think most highly of them.

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