Pretending

That I'm a ~Chill Girl Who's Down With Anything~.

It’s new years eve. I’m in my Junior year of college going to see a band called “The String Cheese Incident” with my boyfriend at the time and his two friends. 

My then boyfriend and his two friends come to visit my hometown over winter break specifically to see this concert. They are big time String Cheese Incident fans.

The four of us pile into an Uber and off we go, over the Tapan Zee Bridge to the Palace Theatre in Westchester. On the car ride to the show, I find out the boys all took mushrooms.

I sort of feel left out but at the same time, drugs scare me and the idea of doing mushrooms at a crowded concert doesn’t appeal to me. I try to act like it's fine that they took mushrooms, but it doesn’t feel fine. It feels rude that they would bring drugs into my parents house without me knowing. I stuff it down and act like a ~Chill Girl Who's Down With Anything~.

The venue is a sea of tie dye, dreadlocks, man buns, and trippy looking humans– nothing I wasn’t familiar with attending college in Vermont. 

The show starts and I feel nothing. I look around at other people seemingly feeling so moved by the jam-band music. They’re making all kinds of faces and moving in funky ways. I wonder if there's something wrong with me for not experiencing the music in the same way. I try to dance a little, pretending that I’m connecting with the music in my body, but it feels forced. 

One of few pics I took that night

Are these other people actually enjoying the show as much as they appear to be? Is anyone else here pretending too? I wonder. 

I feel so alone, despite having come to the show with 3 people– one of whom being my significant other. 

It’s as if everyone they're on a different planet, and it’s not just because they’re on mushrooms and I’m not.

All 3 of them smoke cigarettes– or “cigs” as they called them– and repeatedly take breaks to go outside. I join them and despite being freezing cold and hating the smell, I act like I’m enjoying myself.

Throughout the entire show, I’m looking forward to leaving. 

A pic of me from Junior year of college, when I was in the thick of pretending to be a ~Chill Girl Who's Down With Anything~.

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I’d date him for another 4 months, continuing to pretend about all kinds of things– 

Pretending that I like IPAs and skiing and getting drunk in dark basements and listening to jam bands– ooof the number of jam band concerts that I mustered through during our relationship, too many too count.

A lot of my pretending was in effort to keep up this “chill girl” persona I built. 

I’d pretend that I didn’t mind spotting him for groceries because he spent all his money on weed, even though I found this to be incredibly irresponsible. 

I’d pretend I didn’t mind when he “fell asleep” and didn’t show up to my birthday.

And the time he was “too cold” to cheer me on for my half marathon– “no worries!” I’d say, even though my blood was boiling.

There was a lot of pretending that I didn’t mind when he told me he “wasn’t much of a texter” and rarely communicated. 

All the pretending would come to a head one day when I went downtown to do homework at Speeder and Earls coffee shop. 

I had an unexplainable panicky feeling, like I was jumping out of my skin. I packed up my things and rode my bike back home and told one of my roommates what happened. She told me it sounded like an anxiety attack and encouraged me to see a therapist. 

A few weeks later, I’d sit in my first ever therapist office across from a woman named Ali, telling her about the onset of my recently heightened anxiety.

I gloss over the part of my life that is being in a relationship with someone who I feel like I have to pretend around, presenting this as a minor detail completely unrelated to my anxiety.

Ali lets me ramble for most of the session and then says something I will never forget.

“Anxiety is usually there to communicate something to us. Do you think your anxiety could be warning you not to lose yourself in your relationship?”

Ali hit the nail on the head and blew my 20-year-old mind. 

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Two weeks ago I went back to visit Burlington, my college town, with my current partner, who, by the way, never makes me feel like I have to pretend. 

Me and my wonderful partner, Al, in Burlington a few weeks ago :)

Walking around campus, I scan the college students wondering how many of them are pretending that they like skiing and jam bands and IPAs.

I want to tell them not to waste their time pretending, but that would be robbing them of learning through experience.

I’m struck with an overwhelming feeling of gratitude for being at a stage in my life where I can be my full, expansive self, without dimming my light to act like a ~Chill Girl Who's Down With Anything~.

I feel a deep sense of peace. I feel so myself.

Me a few weeks ago in Burlington with my ice cream at sunset:)