I totally got it, she said as she wiped sweat from her forehead. But for people who don’t really know you, I could see how they might have gotten confused. Not the typical gym conversation, but Maxine and I have been friends since college and freely brought up the blog post about our appearance at church.

Triggering thoughts of misconception and confusion, I spiraled down a dark hole imagining the woman people were creating in the privacy of their minds.

Wannabe Mother Theresa + RuPaul + Judgey McJudgerson = Bianca

To order to absorb context and dialog with new people, knowing them is pivotal to whether or not you chose to agree, understand, or continue to invest in them. We need to be known.

So, this is part of me.
I love cooking, but hate washing dishes.
I squeel with delight when I buy something fabulous for a fraction of the price.
I like cleaning bathrooms with bleach and a toothbrush, but I hate sweeping.
I don’t like Elvis—he scares me. And so do clowns.
I believe grilled peanut butter, banana, and honey sandwiches are the best snacks ever.
I care way too much what people think of me.
I used to starch and iron money as a child. (Ya know, so I can pull it out crisply during offering at church.)
I wear heels five days a week, but I dream of wearing running shoes e.v.e.r.y.d.a.y.
I’m afraid of growing up.
I didn’t learn how to read until I was eleven.

Your turn πŸ˜‰

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