My friend from college Jack – who gave me tons of random pieces of advice that have proven to be incredibly wise – once told me that when you’re in a relationship, you find out exactly how awful of a person you can really be. It was something like that. Add it to the ever growing list of Jack Was Right.

All of a sudden I’m sensitive to seeing myself in a different light. It’s one thing for your friends to make judgments about you – I mean, you know all their crap, and you know it’s a mutual crapfest. But romance seems to work differently. Somehow the other person is angelic for a while, which makes all your faults stand out like they’re the only ones between the two of you. (Read: I’m insecure.)

Insecurity is unattractive. But there’s nothing worse than getting insecure about your own insecurity. So I thought I’d blog it instead of calling and rambling a bunch of random crap about it to a guy who I already say the dumbest things to on a pretty consistent basis.

The stark reality is that unless he’s some kind of robot, he’s still in the phase where he overlooks my insanity in favor of other, better qualities.  I’m the only one freaking out.  And yeah, I’m a little given to panic anyway. Even writing about it is blowing this feeling out of proportion.

But on the other hand, I didn’t realize what a human being he was, going in to this. I don’t mean imperfections. I mean, how it’s possible to hurt him with a joke. And how he thinks about me as an entire package, and not just some woman in a body. I have no idea if we’re in the angelic phase or if he is just an amazing person. How long, you think, before I can know?

I heard a friend of mine (James?) say the first 6 months don’t count. Seriously? You can go 6 months with a person and not have a clue who they really are?

I wonder if the beginning of a relationship is set up this way intentionally… like, once you get comfortable with each other, you can get your mulligans out of the way and learn how to treat one another. Then, by the time you really matter to each other, you have a better sense of what you ought to be doing and saying. Maybe the first 6 months don’t count because those are your mulligans.

I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never had a relationship. I’m saying too much, I’m not saying enough. Oh, how very R.E.M.

The constant critique of myself is juvenile. It is an attitude that refuses to face reality. You’re either comfortable with each other or you’re not. It works or it doesn’t. At this stage, when it’s still early on, the goal should be to learn to respect your Other while still being a genuine version of yourself. That should be kind of easy. But it looks like there are things I’m not admitting to myself about my own imperfection. There’s not a lot of acceptance all of a sudden. Imagine being someone like me, who cares what others think of them, and then getting into a situation where more and more of your decisions affect someone else in one way or another. It’s not just creating insecurity. It’s running rampant in my psyche – it’s systematically taking down the security I thought I had already built.

Which brings us to Allie’s advice. You can’t build security. She called me out on having too many walls. I liek to think my walls have done me a favor or two in the past… but of course, she’s right. I’ve been an island for so long I don’t know if I can acknowledge other people in the way I should.

If security is an illusion, is vulnerability the ultimate goal? If you can be vulnerable, and be good at it and really live that way – wouldn’t that be ideal?  So that’s my goal. And it means I have to be ridiculous in front of someone I like. I can’t hide behind any insincerity.

There is a graceful way to remove walls. It’s a process, and it shouldn’t be quick. It should be thorough. That’s a theory. I’ll let you know.

So… what if? What if I’m trusting someone I shouldn’t be trusting? What if I’m hurt? Any movie will tell you that investing yourself into relationships you believe in is usually worth the heartbreak. But what I can’t help thinking about is, what if I hurt someone? What if I can’t be trusted? That’s where my insecurity frightens me. I believe all kinds of good things about myself but now every time I behave selfishly, all of a sudden there’s someone else. Now I’m not just putting myself first, but putting myself ahead of someone else, which is a totally different act. And I’m starting to panic about it. Shouldn’t I be secure in my good qualities? Shouldn’t I know that I’m trustworthy and loving?

You can’t really know until someone else is involved. So Jack was right. And so was Cooley. Without other people, your picture of yourself is incomplete. Right now, I know I’m not a monster and I think I’m not hateful. But I’m starting to see that I’m unwise and I’m careless. In my opinion, that’s beyond being human – that’s a real character flaw. And as subjective as the whole question is, I’m not sure if it ruins me or not, and I feel like I wish I knew.