My friend, let's call her A, is a total nutcase.
No, I mean it, she's insane.
I think it's because she's so smart. She's so smart that she can't handle it and it's driving her crazy.
But, you know what affirmed my suspicion on her mental state of being?
She called me "perfect". Now, this was a while back, but I still can't get over it. Should I be happy? I don't know, flattered? Someone else probably would be. But when she called me that, it made me angry. And when I think about why it made me angry, it just makes me even angrier.
The first thing that popped into my head was, "Why would you call me that, A? I'm not perfect. I'm far from perfect. I'm flawed and oversensitive and paranoid. I don't like chocolate and I hate things that everyone else loves and…"
And it just went on. I had so many bad things to say about myself. Why? I thought I had more self confidence than this. I most definitely am my worst critic, but this was more intense than usual. I had so much to say, but when A told me that, all I did was scowl and say,
"Did you seriously just call me that? I can't believe you called me perfect. I'm not perfect."
Earlier today, I confessed to her that I was still caught up on her compliment.
"I can't believe you called me perfect."
"You are perfect," was her immediate reply.
"I'm far from perfect," I countered. And I meant it. "I'm messed up."
A gave a little sigh, like she understood.
"I know, Sierra. There's a lot wrong with me, too. Just, don't ever let someone say that you're not awesome."
I feel a little bit better, but I hope that she seriously doesn't think that I'm "perfect". I just want her to see me as Sierra, flawed Sierra, Sierra who gets frustrated at the things other people would just laugh at, Sierra who is crazy about muffins and orchestral music, Sierra who despises almost everything that she likes.
Sierra is Sierra. I am me.