ask me and you’ll get crickets

Tonight, I sat in a class at church and began to realize why I always feel so uncomfortable answering questions in Sunday School and Institute classes.  Anything of a spiritual nature is filed away in my mind somewhere in a folder labeled “personal.”  This file is buried under a ton of other crap, yet somehow I manage to fill it with things all the time.  It’s contents include, almost exclusivly, religion and relationships.  I’m not sure why those are the only two things I keep in there, but at least I’m fairly open about everything else. 

Although the questions in class tonight were only acutely personal, I still felt insanely uncomfortable turning to the person next to me, as the teacher instructed, and discussing questions on the board.  Although my question anxiety was caused by the fact that they related, even if only mildly, to the contents of my “personal” file, it was compounded (irrationally) by the following three things: I’d already spent the day talking to strangers; my ability to socialize had been exhausted even though the guy sitting next to me was pretty cute; and all I could really think about was my craving for speckled jelly beans or how badly I needed to eat dinner. 

Despite my inability to discuss certain personal things, I often find myself on the receiving end, as the porter for other people’s emotional baggage.  Perhaps I exude an aura of trustworthiness?  Could my ability to carry others emotional luggage have squashed any willingness to do my own sharing?

Ever hear a woman complain that a man is “emotionally unavailable?”  Each time a friend comes to me, lamenting along these lines, I see my own behaviors line up with those of the men they’re trying to get over.

I should probably fix that.


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