Worth Considering

In college I conducted a weird and probably misguided experiment in which I only spoke with a Chicagoland accent. As a result I found people warmed to me and struck up conversation in situations where they would normally avoid me or completely ignore what I had to say.

I found this telling. But one day, in a moment of emotional vulnerability, I broke down to a teacher and confessed everything.

"Why would you do that?" he asked.

"Because I don't think I'm likeable," I answered, eyes filling with long-repressed doe-eyed tears, and I explained in a shaking voice why I might seem horrifically unapproachable or downright antisocial at-a-glance.

His brow furrowed in sympathy. He put a hand on my shoulder and, with an encouraging squeeze, softly proffered the following hypothesis:

"Angela ... maybe you're just icky."

I was speechless. The Chicagoland accent went away after that, and in similar situations, where I quietly resent people who don't seem to automatically intuit my preciousness or whatever, I remember it. Maybe you're just icky. It has probably made me a nicer person.