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Vulnerability is allowing people to see you exactly as you are, which is really hard, because when you’re vulnerable you can get hurt. Most people armor up with bravado or something, but those people are missing out, because without allowing yourself to be vulnerable, it’s tough to have, like, any emotional experience at all. Letting people in is really vulnerable, and most people—especially introverts—have trouble.
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Guilt is about something you do. Shame is about who you are.
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A thought came to me. What do I think about the date with Rafe? Here I am thinking about what everyone else would think, and I haven’t taken even a second to have my own reaction. Weird.
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Wow. Did I just write that? I didn't want who I am to come between us? How could I not have seen that?
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I was thinking about how snakes shed their skin every year, and how awesome it would be if people did that too. In lots of ways, that’s what I was trying to do.
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But I do think that when we choose the easy path, where people or society reward us for being what they want us to be, against who we really are, a kind of death occurs. To the soul.
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The world will make you vulnerable. If you're acting like you're not, that's what you're doing.
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Just smile, Max. The paint cannot be stronger than a smile. But it is.
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I think some people are bi, definitely.
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No one had really been looking at me all the time. Other than me.
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Guilt, she’d explained, was useful because a person could learn from it and do the right thing next time. Shame, on the other hand, was useless.
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I knew that she was right, obviously. But part of me didn't want to. I wanted to have someone to call my own so badly that I just couldn't let it go.
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It’s not, like, denial? In the GSA we joke that bi guys are just gay guys who aren’t ready to admit it yet.
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You can be anything you want, but when you go against who you are inside, it doesn't feel good.
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I mean, if you accept something, you take it for what it is. Tolerance is different. Less.
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And it's hard to express the truth when the world wants you to be someone else.
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I had the strong sensation that I'd underestimated my parents and their devotion to me. Of course they'd be on my side, whether they understood or not. That was just the kind of parents they were.