Do you remember me? We’ve met!

Maybe briefly over a shared acquaintance or friends of friends. Maybe we were at a family get together when we had a brief chat?

Whenever it was, know this…


When we met, I wasn’t me. You saw me, you spoke to me, you saw my physical presence, but we didn’t really “meet”.

When we met, the real me was somewhere deep deep down inside, peeking at you from some abyss within myself. I heard you, I answered your questions, and I might have even told a funny anecdote. But we didn’t really “meet”.

Think back. I probably only spoke about myself, and only when directly asked. I would have given a safe story that I knew went down well, and something others around me had probably heard a hundred times or more. This was because I was terrified of the impression I would make, and I knew I wasn’t quite myself at the moment so I’d give you very little to judge me on. The bare minimum without seeming rude.

I wouldn’t have asked you very many questions for a couple of reasons. Neither one of them being that I don’t care or didn’t want to know about your life. Firstly, I didn’t think you’d really want to be having this conversation with me. I’d probably ask some question that would go horribly wrong like “are you married” to the couple going through divorce, or ask something that had just been mentioned because I’d drifted momentarily. Normally I’d be able to laugh that stuff off and navigate the situation smoothly. But not then.

Secondly, it’s exhausting to be out and socialising when you feel like this. Like you’re operating some puppet with the world’s heaviest strings. To remember to smile at the right time, or learning everyone’s names. Normally I’d love this. I’d be the first person up and chatting, and great with names. But not then.


I probably seemed like a quiet, shy girl with not much to say. Nice enough but nothing of substance.

I promise, you were seeing 1% of me. You were seeing what was left of my personality after I’d battled with myself to get out of the house and been exhausted by the first conversation I had. You were seeing someone whose other 99% was busy at war with their own mind.

You were seeing “energy-saving” Amy. A grey screen had come down, minimal apps are available and further connections hammering my battery life.


Now I’m pleased to say that my battery is fully charged. I’m back at the helm and I can’t wait for you to meet me properly.