We have so many things to come to terms with in regard to people. Are we a people person? Are we a people pleaser? Do we recharge ourselves by being around other people or by taking time to be alone? Do we prefer melting into crowds, standing in front of crowds, the company of small groups or the intimacy of one-on-one?

A recent chapter in our Bible Study (I have been with the same gals for eight years, so you can run but you cannot hide.) highlighted the significance of other people in terms of our growth. It seems that we can only truly grow in community with other people. This was disheartening to me because I feel like when I have something major to work on, I want to turn inward and quietly get ‘er done. But no — it’s the other people around us, the ones we choose to be close to, the ones we cannot escape, and the strangers strewn into our paths that solicit the heart-level change we’re after when we really want to grow.

This makes sense. Especially in light of the people I want to avoid if I feel like hiding — my brother, my parents and a handful of friends with insight eyesight. If any of those folks ask me how I’m doing, I can never get by with “fine;” especially because if things really are fine, I will come up with a much better adjective than that and they know it. So “fine” really stands for “lousy” and in that case I may as well start spilling my guts pronto. They have little tolerance for my feeble attempts at façade. And frankly, at this point, neither do I.

There was a time in my life (I think I had braces) when I wanted to be around people who were popular. Likely because I always was the shy, new kid and thought you could possibly catch popularity by proximity, like a cold germ. Later I wanted to be around successful people, because I thought that might be contagious too. At some point I transitioned from chasing dreams to following my heart. Now I simply want to be around people who are authentic. Authenticity begets authenticity, so if you seek the company of real people, you end up being more real yourself. What a relief.

Frankly I was getting exhausted trying to keep up appearances. Regular highlights, seasonal wardrobe upgrades, pedicures and basic hygiene rituals (especially blow drying layered hair with a round brush, I waste half my life) are bad enough, but you add to that trying to constantly be perfect, prepared, on time, a good mother, making regular appearances at church and at your kids’ schools, keeping track of everyone’s schedules including your own, meeting work deadlines, RSVPing to frickin’ Evites and having something redeeming in the pantry — it’s all enough to make your head spin. And I don’t even have a husband to feed or tend to, and if I recall correctly, they do not always appreciate cereal for dinner —especially hastily poured at the kitchen island, between football, volleyball and three sets of homework.

My point is, if we are more real, and we surround ourselves with more real people, then we can stop trying so hard all the time and start lightening up. Try it for one day. Say how you really are when someone cares enough to ask. Scrap the to-do list for a change and try being there for someone else instead. See people and situations with fresh eyes, and understand that you have a part to play in every scene of your day as it unfolds — nothing is random. Give yourself room to grow and surround yourself with people who are growing too. Eat cereal in the dining room, with candles. Pour yourself a glass of wine. Let your hair air-dry, screw the frizz. Ignore your email and have lunch with a person. Give yourself a break, sweetheart. And when you see me next, smile and tell me to do the same.