Transparent

Though I’ve just entered my twenties, I’ve never been in a relationship. That fact used to make me angry, or embarrassed, but the more I fantasize about it, the more I realize it’s good that I’m not in a relationship.

I know there would be many problems. Sex, self-esteem, but most importantly--communication. My imaginary boyfriend throws glass at the wall, screaming that he regrets ever approaching me. I stand there sheepishly, knowing that it’s all my fault.

At home, I felt transparent, like everyone could see all of my problems. That’s because they could. My mother hoards compulsively, and anyone who sets foot in our home instantly understands that there’s something very, very wrong.

I became used to feeling humiliated, ashamed, and having everyone know our family’s problems. I went to college, and one day my roommate surprised me by stating how calm and collected I always seemed. It stunned me.

My anxiety and my self-hatred apparently wasn’t written on my forehead. That was news to me.

Other people have viewed me as distant, cool, or collected like my roommate says. The relationships have never been close, because I’ve never communicated that well.

Even now, I’m perpetually in the state of transparency in my head. I expect everyone to know my fears and my doubts, and when they don’t it still surprises me.

Gradually, I’ve dipped my toes in the water, revealed slightly more to every new person I come across. But still, I’m unsure of how to completely fall in, and I hope people can understand that I’m not cold.

It just takes time to melt the barriers.