My reputation occasionally precedes me. I feel it in the anticipatory tension of a room of people I know well, usually and most often family, but a few friends as well – and certainly in less-close acquaintances. Carrying that knowledge with me is its own albatross, and it rebounds on itself – one of those nasty little interminable cycles that spins round and round, only gaining momentum and surety. At this point in the story, it’s impossible to completely eradicate or erase the unease, so I turn to humor and quips to give myself and my image a fighting chance.
Occasionally I’ll walk in and say something like “Darth Vader has entered the building” in a disarming and silly attempt at relaying some sense of self-deprecation. It doesn’t negate the fact that, yes, Darth Vader is in the room, but Darth Vader is Darth Vader because the people in that room likely helped contribute to making him Darth Vader.
We are all complicit in who we become around each other.
