Tales of a Midnight Porch Confession

(photo credit: http://nowandthan.tumblr.com/p…)

It was a Friday night, probably one of the coldest nights of the season so far, and my roommate and I braved the frigid air to support some friends at a chic art event downtown.  Friday nights are usually reserved for wine drinking and parks and rec watching and the only dancing were doing is to celebrate our Pizza House delivery after midnight. So this excursion, was an anomaly in itself. But I knew you might be there, and so I retired my leggings and sweaters for the night and mustered up the energy to walk beyond State Street, which is usually a deal breaker, for anything.

We arrived at the event and everyone looked flawless and fabulous like people tend to in those kind of spaces. There was a lot of hugging and buzzed loving. I said my hellos and nervously searched the crowd for you. I’m surprised I didn’t give myself whiplash glancing over my shoulder every few seconds. When you finally did arrive, we chatted for a bit and I wondered if you could tell that my upper lip was trembling when I smiled and if the twitch in my left eye was something only I could feel. Needless to say, when you walked away I realized that I was that into you so when I my roommate said “just tell him” even sending a text felt terrifying and impossible. Being vulnerable, felt terrible and impossible.

How she and our other friend convinced me to show up at your doorstep at one pm on that Friday night, I will never know. I could hardly hear myself over the chattering of my own teeth and with my face numb from those Michigan winter winds, I’m not even sure if you could tell that I was smiling. Although it may have seemed like my being there was effortless, know that I ran from your door back to the street four times before I actually knocked and that I almost vomited on your front door when I realized that you were actually going to open it. Thank you for your shy smile and genuine appreciation considering all the terrible ways you could have responded. Thank you for being kind and honest when you texted me 5 days later to tell me that, whiIe what I did was very nice, you weren’t interested but hoped we could still be friends. To be frank, Thanksgiving day was probably not the best day to do this. But we can chalk it up to an honest mistake. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you simply did not think it through or consult anyone before deciding that rejection was the best thing to pair with a “Happy Thanksgiving”. Don’t worry, I’m not bitter.

 No, the outcome was not ideal but I can say, that I have never felt more confident. I realized that had I never said anything, I would have spent even more wasted time wondering. Which is one of those things we often do. Don’t get me wrong, for a brief moment, between bites of turkey and stuffing, I felt humiliated and sad and regretted ever knocking on your door. But how you responded was never what was most important. It was me speaking my truths, not without fear, but unapologetically. I learned that my words and actions need not be dependent on others reception of them to be valid and real. Vulnerability is not weakness. Vulnerability is bravery. And bravery is not fearlessness but taking action in spite of the fear.  Yes rejection can truly feel devastating, trust me. But there is a great peace and relief in no longer having to question. Showing up on the porch of a boy’s house in thirty-degree weather on a Friday night, might not sound like anything to talk about but for me, it was huge and one of the most courageous things I have ever done. If I can transfer that kind of bravery, honesty and confidence to every other area of my life— I’ll be unstoppable.