Ride Or Die As Your Flawsome Self

by Tracy Bernard

Just flawsome.

My husband and some friends and I recently went to Cirque du Soleil in Las Vegas. We had front row tickets which made a superb show even better. At some point during the show, the maestro made direct eye contact with me from the stage, and then proceeded to walk my way. I started to panic momentarily because I have horrible stage fright and I thought he was going to pull me up on stage in front of thousands of people. Instead, he took a beautiful long stem rose and presented to me. I stood up to accept it and, here’s the cringe worthy part, curtsied. Yes, you read that right. A deep, plunging, should-be-reserved-for-the-queen curtsy. As I sat down, I whispered to my husband, “oh my God, I just curtsied.” He laughed and said, “yes, you sure did.”

Rewind to a couple of decades ago. I’m a 22-year-old intern at the White House and I get a call first thing in the morning that they were elevating my security clearance and I needed to report to another building immediately for a drug test. My boss, Marilyn, usually arrived much later than I did, so I didn’t leave her a note figuring it wouldn’t take long. Unfortunately, there was a queue for drug testing that day, so it ended up taking a couple hours. This happened before cell phones were prevalent so I rushed back worried she’d be upset with me. When I got to her office, she had a stylish older woman sitting with her. I meant to only poke my head in so she could see I was there, but she called me in. Thinking I was about to be reprimanded, I started speaking, “Hey Marilyn, sorry I’m late but good news, they are elevating me to a blue pass, so I had to get drug tested. Cross your fingers!” Let me clarify quickly that this was an absolute, total joke and I was in no way unsure that I would pass a drug test. Why I thought that remark would be funny though is another question.

After a painful, awkward pause, Marilyn decided to ignore my little statement and said, “Tracy, I’d like to introduce you to George Stephanopoulos’s mother, Nikki.” My jaw dropped. I just made a drug joke in front of a senior White House staffer’s mother. I shook her hand and apologized for my joke. She was gracious, but I was mortified.

As embarrassing as these stories are, and there are a hundred more, my propensity to do and say awkward things on a regular basis is what makes me, me. And while being chronically awkward is no doubt a flaw, it also causes the bonding moments I have with many people. It is what people that love me, love about me. These are the stories my friends and family laugh about and that make me memorable.

What if the way we perceived our quirks and idiosyncrasies, even our outright flaws, changed everything about how we worked on ourselves? What if you were to only prune the limbs of your personality that you've decided aren’t exactly perfect, instead of removing them altogether trying to prevent criticism? If I were to avoid doing or saying anything awkward or embarrassing, I would avoid doing or saying everything,period. I would retreat into the wallpaper. No, that won’t do.That would mean shutting down something that is inherently me, which is to go with the moment, ride or die as Tracy. Yes, I tell jokes, many of them bad, and a curtsy every now and then may occur…I won’t even cover dancing. It's okay.

None of this is to say that I shouldn’t work on my flaws or you,yours. Today I probably wouldn’t make a drug joke at the White House; that was my 22-year-old self. I’ve learned a little since then. Instead, I strive to not embarrass anyone, to be appropriate to the situation, but still always ride or die as my flawsome self. I encourage you to do the same. bhw