Air Dancer

 For the past week, I have been doing my job, talking to people, helping them sort through their issues, offering advice, and doing what I do best, while in the background, my head was spinning.  I’ll admit I am off my game at work, but not so bad that I can not do it. I feel more like the AirDancer—those happy-go-lucky fabric columns with streamers often found at used car lots and other businesses. My game face is on when I greet a client and stays on throughout the session. Then, as I watched the client walk away, I feel the air turn off, and I go limp.

My resolve to get through the day prompts another burst of air, another smile as genuine and authentic as I can muster, even though I feel empty.  Has anyone also felt that there was a little menace behind the Air Dancers' happy exterior as if behind their smile, they want to give the world the finger?  Or maybe that is just me sympathizing with their fate.  Yet I should not be so harsh, most of the time there is more than one Air Dancer at any given location, so at least they are not alone in their happy dance.

Friendship and support are not things I think about regularly. Even though I know they are vital to life, I am used to doing my own thing, being that “independent woman.” But let’s be honest: It’s not independence; it’s isolation due to social anxiety—well, and a side effect of being an insecure introvert.    

The desire to reach out to others for support has been in me, yet so isn’t the shame and guilt, both from the current situation and the general stuff I have been slowly working through.  So when a Co-worker popped into my office and told me she missed me, I…well nearly lost it.

You see, I tend to keep to myself and isolate on the best of days, in part due to social anxiety but primarily due to my need to recharge from talking to people all day.   I value the limited connections I do have.  I also tend to feel awkward about what I can and can not share with the people I value the most. Mistakes have been made in the past, so I am more cautious. Don’t want to be a burden… Hell… it is just easier to isolate.

Let’s be real.  Being vulnerable with another human being, especially someone you care about, is the hardest thing in the world and something I ask from most, if not all, of my clients.

When I present this concept of being vulnerable with another human being, my clients, more often than not, look at me and say, “easier said than done.” And I want to say, “You’re damn right it is, but what other choice do you have? Curl up in a hole somewhere waiting to die?” or worst yet, build walls so strong and so tall that you forget what it feels like to be human or to feel love! For me, that would be Hell, literally and biblically.

So, when my friend came into my office and told me she missed me, I did break down in a way. I told her what was going on, and she listened. Later, when another friend checked in on me, I repeated the experience with tears and acceptance of a hug. Then, a third also checked in and was given an updated answer, for they already knew my story, which was a semi-requirement to maintain my livelihood. This person is also a rare gem in the business world.

As I write these final words, a picture comes to mind: a row of Air Dancers so close together that they are in sync when they dance, flowing back and forth. Occasionally, one goes limp but is close enough that the others around it can support it until that air stream can prop it up again.  Oddly, this image makes me smile and reminds me of how vital friendships are.  A reminder that I need to allow myself to be vulnerable more often, even when the risk of being hurt is high. I can handle the pain; I am just not sure I can handle continuing to be unauthentic to get through the day.

Thanks for listening,

Jodie Nicole

Ps.  Thank you to my supporters this week; you know who you are and are appreciated.