I’ve always been that heart on her sleeve kinda gal. I can’t help it, and will probably never try to.
Being aloof and mysterious doesn’t come naturally, so instead I throw my all into a situation/ friendship/ chocolate bar, and then retreat afterwards if it doesn’t feel right.
In turn that can make me cringe if I appear a little OTT.
Yet it’s little nuggets of information shared between mums at the school gate or strangers in a queue which can genuinely make for a better day or enlightening moment.
Last month, several parents and I waiting to board our flight chatted about inane stuff to pass a previously boring hour with humour. Another time, I told a lady in passing I was struggling and she admitted to having a similar day.
I tire of anyone who doesn’t appear genuine or blows hot and cold, so maybe being straight up is where it’s at. However, this can bring feelings of vulnerability.
A smile at the supermarket isn’t necessarily what I have the energy for, yet who knows when this may make someone else feel better.
Thanks to my recent broken nose I’ve had a serious resting bitch face, and lacked the basic ability to crack a smile without, well, cracking my face. It’s made me feel awkward and I’ve needed to attempt a grin, which has looked more grimace-like. All I can say is, Halloween was well timed last week.
So my current oversharing is about a five year old bash and post concussion syndrome which is the cause of some suffering at the moment. And I’m not even referring to my anguish about cooling forehead strips not working (until realising there was a removable adhesive strip).
Next week it may be something different, but I truly believe our stories are what join us, bring giggles and form friendships. Caring is indeed sharing.