There are times when I dislike myself simply for being me. I can’t help but notice the moments when I don’t know what to say, what to do, or even where to put my hands—as if I’m completely lost in my own mind. Confused. Unsure of who I really am, while at the same time painfully aware that I’m not living the way I should. It’s like something about me always feels wrong.

Whenever I’m faced with having to interact with others, I often think: Should I respond the way the person I want to be would respond? Or should I just say what I think is polite? Maybe I should respond based on what I was taught growing up? I’m constantly battling these thoughts in my head, and it makes socializing feel more like a chore than genuinely connecting. I’m left drained—exhausted, even. I always wonder if I said the right thing, if I left a good impression, if I made a friend, or if they walked away thinking I was pretentious or fake.

Things are, of course, different with my husband Lester and my best friend Fran, who I know love and accept everything about me. But many of my interactions don’t go well with people I don’t see or speak to every day. It feels cliché to say I’m misunderstood, because it’s much more complicated than that, and most of the fault lies with me for not communicating in what the internet would probably call a neurotypical way. Clamming up. Saying the wrong things. Maybe even coming across as rude when I try to act more familiar with someone, even if we’re not quite at that level yet.

Some people would probably say I overthink things or that it’s “not that deep”—and honestly, most of the time, that’s probably true. But what about the times when people do seem to avoid me after a single interaction? I’m still at the stage of learning to accept that not everyone is going to like me. I’ve always known that phrase, but accepting it is the difficult part.

As a thirty-something-year-old, I feel like I’m supposed to already have a well-established understanding of myself—a consistency in my words and actions—but I keep finding myself shifting constantly from awkwardness to assurance, and then back to awkwardness again. Every day feels like a reset when I’m around someone I don’t fully trust. I do think part of it comes from childhood issues, but I guess it can turn into something worse when you don’t address it early on. So is there really a cure for it other than therapy? Should I just throw myself into social interactions more often and find my footing as I go? Where do I even start when my fears take over before I can even begin trying to fix anything? I think what scares me most is the thought that people are seeing me exactly as I am, and I still don’t know whether that’s someone worth knowing.

For now, I suppose all I can do is continue navigating these uncomfortable in-between spaces, stop treating every interaction like a test, and allow myself the freedom to be imperfect around people—hoping that somewhere along the way, I’ll finally feel at home within myself.