Act Natural

A couple of years ago I developed a syndrome, or came down with something, I’m not really sure what it was or what you would call it, but somehow I developed this raging, in your face, unfading amount of self-confidence. Sounds like a good thing, right? It was in a way, but when I think back on it, it looks a little more like what doctors would call “mania” or a “manic episode” – and this one in particular lasted a couple of years.

This lengthy mania had its own set of individual manic episodes, or IMAs, that were triggered by visits from and visits to my best friends from high school. When we would get together, we were a little out of control. Our happiness and excitement was through the roof. So much so that we were unable to hang out with any “outsiders” when we were together because we were scary and intimidating (well no one ever said that to us, but we figured that would be the case so we never tried).

One of my favorite IMAs of all time was a weekend in LA visiting one of my high school friends, Anna. She picked me up from LAX on a Friday evening. Driving back to her house, we were squealing and shrieking and screaming with joy, talking a mile a minute and not hearing anything we said to each other, just how it always was for the first three hours of a visit. We drove to her house, and immediately started getting ready for the night.

Within minutes, her apartment was destroyed. I was emptying the contents of my weekend bag directly onto the floor. As usual, I had way over packed, having brought six outfits to choose from for the one night we were going out. Anna was furiously pulling clothes out of her drawers and closet, trying to find the perfect outfit. The floor was a patchwork of tank tops and jeans, both in a multitude of colors and sizes. For every third clothing item there was a square of carpet, just enough to fit a tip toe.

We finally call a cab and down our last beers before heading out. We’re going to the Standard in downtown LA, a hotel with a rooftop bar. When our cab pulls in front of the hotel, I see a long line of people waiting to get in. I tell Anna to look at the line, and she tells me we’re not waiting in line – we’re going straight to the front. My heart immediately starts pounding. “We’re not going to the front of the line, I refuse to get denied in front of all these people”. We get out of the cab. “We won’t get denied – just act natural”.

Those two words, act natural, suddenly paralyzed me: how the hell do you do that?

Suddenly my mania was stripped, my confidence sucked right out of me with an unstoppable, rebel force. I became acutely aware of my every movement, what every limb of my body was doing, what face I was making, and what I was looking at. Being ordered to act natural broke me down into this uncomfortable, awkward mess.

What does acting natural look like? Maybe I could copy someone else, someone in the line who I think looks natural. Or just copy someone, anyone, who looks like they fit in, or even one who seems comfortable that they don’t.

Should I act busy and preoccupied or cool and calm? Should I talk and laugh, or be a cool, mysterious quiet? Do I try to fit in, or stand out? Be the center of attention, or blend in with the crowd? Was it laughing loudly, or being too cool to talk? Is it cooler to check everyone out from head to toe with an icy stare, or is it cooler to smile? Should I be on the phone, or be in the moment? Was being natural really being anything at all?

And everyone there seemed kind of scared of each other, scared of locking eyes, of someone seeing through us. Scared of being caught, scared of trying to copy something we can’t pull off. I knew for certain that I definitely wasn’t fooling anyone that night - I couldn’t even fool myself. I was yelling at myself in my head, Can’t you just act like a normal, human girl? But I couldn’t, no matter how hard I tried.

I come back to the moment and realize Anna is watching my eyes dart around, watching me fold and unfold my arms, pull something out of my purse, then put it back. “What the hell are you doing”, she asks. I can only answer honestly: “I have no idea”.

We burst out laughing.

“Well whatever that was, stop it – that wasn’t natural at all!

She looks at me again and tells me to go back to how I usually am, that never mind, I was good before. Turns out trying to act natural is the most unnatural thing to do.

It was hard to shake that off right away, my attempt at acting natural, so when we walk past the line and straight up to the bouncers, Anna leads the way. “Are you staying at the hotel tonight”, one of them asks Anna. “No”, she answers. “Can I see your IDs?” We give him our IDs, and he welcomes us in. And just like that, we are two of the chosen ones.

Anna grabs my arm as we get on the escalator that takes us up to the club. My confidence fully restored, mania ensues. All is right in my world.

We are screaming and squealing, We got in, we got in, oh my god, we got in! We are not quiet, and we’re certainly not cool. But without a doubt, we’re natural.

“Did you hear what they said to the girls behind us? They asked them if they were staying in the hotel and they said no, and the bouncer said, Sorry, only hotel guests tonight!”

Ah, the poor unnaturals.

And of course we had an amazing night. We were fearless and unafraid. We acted like we owned the place.

I’m not always as bold in public these days, but I have my moments. And still when I get together with my oldest, closest friends, my mania flares up with a vengeance. But I think a little mania is a good thing. Just as long as it’s natural.