I'm Popeye the Sailor Man.

I'm afraid of rejection. This can hardly be earth-shattering news: most people are afraid of rejection to some degree, and I don't think I'm different or special because I am afraid of rejection, nor that I am more afraid than others.

Right now the main area of my life where this is active is in my search for friends. I have plenty of imaginary friends (which term I happily adopted when first I saw redbird use it), that is, people I only know online, whether through Livejournal or Usenet or various web communities. What I want is a few more people colocated within a hour's drive, people I could go to the movies with, or have over for dinner, or call when I need help with the yard (naturally they could also count on me for support).

So when I'm getting to know new people, I feel a strong drive to be likeable. Underneath this is a weak sense that I'm not naturally likeable, not likeable for who I am. (Actually, I feel this sometimes even with long-term acquaintances that I'd like to turn into close friends.) It's often tempting to shade the truth, or hide some part of me that I'm afraid they will find objectionable--after all, most of this stuff isn't relevant to forming this particular friendship.

Then there's the sense that something that is not very important to me will nevertheless be a dealbreaker because it's important to the other person. So, say I have a weak positive feeling for reading historical romance novels and the other person despises strongly anyone who reads that junk, and to me that's not a good reason to end a friendship but to them it is, so why not avoid the subject?

The trouble with this plan is that I never get over thinking that there's something wrong with me, and when they find out, all will be lost.

What I want, what I have wanted for a long time, is to be brave enough to be myself all the time. To be strong enough to endure the rejection that might occur if I stand up for my beliefs. And when I manage it, the reward is enormous! I love that feeling. It's got entitlement and pleasure and strength and self-regard and ultimately power, and it's wonderful.

Then there's the truth I've always known, that the people who like you for who you really are, are the only true friends. Pretending to be someone else, even in a small way, means that their affection is for the fantasy you created instead of for you.

Still, there's sense in choosing what and how much to share with who. I don't tell my family of origin much; that's a sure road to pain and frustration. Coworkers and bosses don't need to know a lot of things. I have good boundaries about that, for the most part.

The title? It's a reference to my personal motto, which is from a Popeye the Sailor song.

I am what I am and that's all that I am. I'm not Popeye, but it's still a good motto.