This week I received an invitation in the mail for my 20-year high school reunion.
This brought about some mixed feelings. I want to attend, but I also don't want to attend. I've reconnected on Facebook with most of the people who I would want to see again; however, it would be fun to visit some of my old stomping grounds and see others face-to-face. For sure I'd enjoy reminiscing with a handful of friends, but some of the memories that can be dredged up at such gatherings of my past are painful. The verdict is still out on whether or not I'll make the trip to be there.
You know what, though? I think that reunions are sort of like blogs. No one wears their comfiest jeans paired with a favorite bleach-stained t-shirt to a reunion. Everyone comes dressed in an outfit that makes them look their best - perhaps even clothes that were purchased specifically for the occasion. People put extra effort into what they look like when they're becoming re-acquainted with acquaintances they haven't seen for years. Hair is trimmed and styled, nails are done. No one is disheveled or unkempt. Children are perfect, marriages are happy and jobs are secure... unless someone chooses to present themselves otherwise.
Blogs are much the same way. Most people put their best-self forward and portray their lives as much more awesome than they may be in reality. There are usually not pictures of the holes in the wall or the skeletons in the closet. Everyone puts their best self out there - their funniest and most sarcastic stories, the pictures of their adorable family dressed in the latest modern-yet-retro clothing, their cleverest observations on the things we all encounter each day. Of course, there are always a few bloggers who feel comfortable sharing the intimate details of their life with these people who they haven't ever met. And that's okay, too. It's a matter of choice.
My point (and I think I have one) is that we all choose the way which we want others to perceive us by the way that we present ourselves, whether it be in the choices we make daily or weekly or even once every twenty years at a high school reunion.
If I choose to venture out to California for the reunion this summer I'd love to say that I'm going to show up in my favorite Levis, a comfortable sweatshirt and my black Converse. I wish I had the confidence to show up with my hair in braids and my face make-up free, but I know that I won't.
Either way, it's all good - because I know who I am, and I'm good with that.