I went to a relatively small high school. I went to grade school with most all of my classmates. We grew up in the same tiny town and/or neighboring areas. I was comfortable. I was confident. My schedule was mundane and predictable. I genuinely didn't care what people thought of my blog and I must say I highly underestimated the impact my words could have.
After moving on campus to my dream school just over two weeks ago, that confidence was shattered... Especially after swapping social media handles with some of my floormates + new friends. For lack of a better word, my balloon had been popped. And not just with a tiny little needle... Oh no. It had been popped in a full-fledged fork fight and I was left to pick up all those little balloon remnants myself.
My schedule wasn't predictable anymore. I had to form new connections. And perhaps the most terrifying? I had to start over at square one. When people would ask who I am, what I plan to major in, and what I am passionate about, I had to have an answer. Quickly, it became quite apparent that I wasn't going to be able to hide who I was if I wanted to form real friendships in this new season of life.
At first, this threw me into a bit of a panic.
"Will they like me?"
"Will they think I'm weird?"
"Will they go back through my blog archives and read the abundance of emotional posts that got me through some of the most trying times in my life up to this point?" (If you're reading this and you haven't done that... DON'T.)
"THEN will they think I'm weird?"
For my first few days here, I was entirely consumed by thoughts that were thought up purely through the oh-so-defeating and pointless process of overthinking... But over the course of several conversations that led to some deep heart-to-hearts, I came to realize that there's no reason to panic, no reason to hide, and no reason to be anything less than completely confident in the person that I am today, have been in the posts that litter my archives, and will be tomorrow.
The other night as a group of us were laying on the floor of the dorm I share with my roomie, one of my floormates started following me on Twitter and asked a question about my blog. It ended up turning into an hour long conversation that led to questions about my arthritis which then in turn led to two other girls on my floor sharing that they, too, suffer from a chronic illness. Ever since that night, I've wanted to go back and whisper in the ear of the terrified Kenzie I was two weeks ago and tell her to stop playing the camouflage game. In fact, I kind of want to scream it at her for nearly preventing such special friendships from forming.
"Some of the greatest rewards come from doing the things that scare you the most."