I have a pretty high threshold for embarrassment.
If you’re as klutzy and as prone to blurting out your unfiltered thoughts as I am, you kind of have to.
If I didn’t, I would probably never leave the house. Ever. For fear of embarrassing myself out there.
If I felt bad every time I walked into a wall, tripped, got pooped on by a bird, or said something stupid, I’d be in a perpetual state of humiliation. My face would be beet red from blushing constantly. People would think I really, really didn’t understand makeup or that I had a mysterious, unnamed skin condition.
It would suck.
Thankfully, that’s not the case for me. For the most part, I can wander around making a total fool of myself without caring too much about it.
At some point I must have realized that I was going to continue doing weird things so it would be easier to just own up to the weirdness and accept that my life would not be marked by legendary class or grace.
It would probably involve a lot more bruised knees and egos than that. It was going to be a big, ole clumsy, faux pas-filled mess so I might as well embrace it.
I mean, it’s not like running from it would help anyway. We all know that I’d just get tripped up in the attempt. (Yes, yes that was a really lame pun. No, I’m not embarrassed by how lame it was. Obviously, duh. That’s kind of the point I’m trying to make here.)
Sometimes it’s okay to be weird. It’s probably even good for you. I mean, I can’t say that for sure. I’m not a licensed mental health professional or anything. I’m just some over-opinionated lady with a blog, so if you’re taking advice from me, that’s on you. I’m just making this crap up as I type.
I’m just saying, it pays to be weird every once and awhile.
It’s good for you to care a little less about what people think of you. Besides, people suck most of the time anyway. What do they know?
If I cared more about what they thought, I’d never get to dance and that would be a real shame because I’ve got some pretty sweet moves…
Just kidding, I’m so bad.
But I don’t really care.