JLooney.com

A few years ago I made a new friend. It was under inspiring and enlightened circumstances that we first made each others acquaintance. I was drawn to this person, hungering to learn more about them and explore the possibilities that had drawn us together and what potential may lay before us. I was impressed by many of the qualities of this person, and was genuinely interested in getting to know them, and to actively find common endeavors to work on together.

My new friend indicated that they were equally impressed with me, and shared the same interest in getting to know each other and finding projects to work on together where our individual skill sets would compliment each other and bring a greater degree of success to whatever the project may be.

We attempted several times to meet for lunch, dinner, whatever – after several weeks we still hadn’t found a time that worked for both of us, and had yet to connect anywhere other than over the phone, through text message, or on Facebook. It seemed like something had gotten in the way, and I just wasn’t sure what that “something” could be.

It turns out that it was me.

You see, after this friend had added me on Facebook and started following my status updates and comments, they got to know another side of me. As I’m sure you’ve gathered if you’ve followed this blog or my Facebook at all, I pretty much put it all on the table. I don’t hold back on passionate comments and spirited debates, and I make no secret of my opinions and views, and at times my humor and cynicism can be dark and even caustic and offensive to some.

But I am who I am, and I don’t pretend to be anything else.

After seeing that side of me, my new friend (who I still admire, love and deeply respect) lost interest in any cooperative efforts or opportunities. I don’t bear them any ill will. In fact, when I learned this it prompted me to do some pretty deep and honest introspective reflection. As I was working on this internal consideration of myself, I heard from a few other sources that they had had similar experiences of me – powerful and inspiring at times and dark, cynical – even offensive – in others. And it put some distance in some of these relationships when they saw what they judged to be “the man behind the curtain”. One of my very dear friends described it this way: “If I didn’t know what a soft and tender, gooey-on-the-inside guy you were, I’d think you were a real asshole based on your Facebook and blog posts.”

Which got me to thinking about the dichotomy of my own personality, which I’m pretty certain isn’t uniquely mine. We’ve all got a light side and a dark side, right? And which side is the one behind the curtain? What if I really AM a dark and cynical person, and the gentle, loving, amazing side of me is the one behind the curtain. Or what if the dark side of me is what’s behind the curtain and I hide that person with my brilliance?

I could go in a lot of different directions with that concept alone and I’m sure that tangential posts will follow later, but for right now I want to talk (perhaps a bit more vulnerably than I typically do) about this dichotomy of me.

As a skinny kid with buck-teeth, red hair, coke-bottle glasses and a last name like Looney, I was a pretty easy target growing up. Hell, I probably would’ve kicked my ass if I’d seen me – it woulda almost been wrong NOT to take advantage of such an easy target. Even at a very young age I knew that being a tender-hearted kid wasn’t going to help me any when it came to adolescent taunting and tormenting. I taught myself first to not react (mom and dad said if I ignored the teasing, my tormenters would get bored and stop, and it was worth a try), then to fight back. Being physically inferior to about 80% of my peers, I chose to develop a sharp tongue rather than a strong right-hand. I covered up the tenderness that was there and hid it away, protecting it from the harsh reality of junior high and high school. I used sharp words and angry cursing of epithets not only as a defense mechanism, but to prove that I belonged. More often than not I used it humorously rather than a direct attack (which could have easily resulted in another ass-kicking). But regardless, the need to be accepted and acknowledged is one of my primal motivators. I absolutely HUNGER for acceptance and approval.

Wow. That’s a scary little secret to admit to.

I know I am inspiring. I know that I am a teacher. I know I am brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous.

I also know that I am an instigator. I know that I am offensive. I know that I am impatient, angry, condescending and crude.

I am all of these things, and in each moment, my pendulum swings from one to the other. Sometimes it swings to the darker side of me, and I push people away with my caustic words and harsh judgments. Others, it swings to the light and I inspire, lead, support and teach and embrace the beautiful diversity within us all.

I believe that this polar opposition, this yin-yang within us all, can be our greatest teacher if we are willing. Without this scared little child lashing out at others from the darkness and pain within me, would I even know the powerful, loving accepting man that I am? If I could wield a spiritual scalpel and surgically remove that dark part of me forever, what might I lose with it?

I have been asked, at times, to behave myself, watch my tongue, or to flat-out censure my thoughts and actions to keep from offending others. This always feels like a denial of myself.

I mean, why is offending someone else such a bad thing? I’m offended – ok, I don’t really offend that easily – I’m BUGGED by a great many people and the things they say and do. But that gives me a reason to challenge my own beliefs and improve myself! Why did that bother me? Why do I feel so strongly about this? Why do THEY feel so strongly about it? What do they know that I don’t?

Why would I try NOT to offend you by denying what I think or feel, or who I am?

Is it more inspiring to hold up the mask, censor my speech, and just fake it in moments of darkness? Or is it more inspiring to embrace the truth

I have two sides, and I choose to share both freely.