We had friends over this weekend. For most people that probably doesn’t sound all that unusual.

But for us, it is.

Our home is our sanctuary. It’s where we’re safe and free to be exactly who we are. That means we don’t often have people over. And the few we do are people we’ve known for a long time or have a secure connection with. And even then, if I’m feeling like I’m in a more vulnerable space at any given moment, then the house is sacrosanct.

You see, I’m awkward. I’m that person in a conversation who makes jokes that aren’t that funny and doesn’t have a clue how to keep a conversation going. I’m the one puzzling out the joke everyone else laughed at. I’m the one who is too intense and who can’t figure out how long I should be making eye contact.

I overthink, over analyse, overdo. I’m not always tactful and sometimes say things that make people uncomfortable. I’m a lot like Sheldon without the skinny genius part.

I get my feelings hurt and try not to show it. I avoid crowds and parties and…well, people. Don’t I sound like a barrel of glitter-fun?

But this weekend I let go. I laughed, acknowledged my awkward feelings when they came up, and knew our friends simply accepted me for the nut-wrapped-in-crunchy-cellophane that I am.

And that was really, really, nice.