Guest Spotlight: Nia Pycior

I was 12 when I first had the thought. I was over being flat and straight. Nevermind my body had more texture than a sequined flapper dress with a fur coat over it. 

Who would care to know me with a façade like that? But, I thought, if we all had identical bodies, it would force one to look beyond that to what we were truly about on the inside. I do NOT miss the teen years.

Fortunately, I've made friends with my body and I'm more confident in my outward appearance. I've matured into more of sensible pantsuit with fun undergarments. Nevermind that by fun I mean braless and comfy undies. 

The question is, what is it about us on the outside that makes someone want to know us more on the inside? Especially for us who don't outwardly sparkle and shine? 

And we've all met this spectrum of people, haven't we? The raucous-laughing, crazy story-telling, centre-of-the-room life of the party. And the soft-spoken, perimeter-of-the-room observer. We've encountered and engaged them envied and ignored them. We've been them and everyone in between. 

But what pulls us in? What is it that makes you wonder "what condiments does he keep inside his refrigerator?" "Does she sleep on her back or her side?" "Who are they, *really*?" 

And how risky does it feel to let someone in? Instead of deflecting with a flashy wild story or a one word answer or a shrug, to answer honestly. To say, I don't believe condiments should be kept in the fridge. Or to say you sleep on your back because of your cpap machine. 

Could it be it takes far more courage and chutzpah to bare your soul than your body? 

What if we had curated vignettes of our lives and experiences on display - all of it - to be looked upon and reacted to? And only at the end did we see the summation housed in a body of flesh and blood? 

What if we gave more glimpses of ourselves to the outside world? What would you look like and how would you feel? 

I'd have a cute pink bob, only wear wedding dresses and knee high socks and an old grandpa sweaters, I'd sing my thoughts out loud and always drink directly from the bottle. Just thinking about that makes me feel happy and free. 

The truth is, getting to know me can be like chipping at a concrete wall with a pick made of chalk. But, for just the right people, there's a big ol' gate swung wide. My quirks and weirdness (which I mostly love about myself) are proudly on display right next to my insecurities and bad habits. The right people will shine the kind of light that make even my shadowy places look inviting. Like finding just the right dress or pair of pants - accentuating the good, taking care of the parts waiting to be seen as good.