The little bell jingled insistently as the shop door closed behind me.
“I’m hoping you can help me select some yarn for my project.”
“Oh, do you knit?” The shopkeeper asked expectantly.
“No. I unknit, mostly.”
“Unknit?” she asked, frowning.
“Yes,” I replied. “It’s when you cast on 20 stitches or so and then, after ten minutes of knitting, look down and realize you only have two stitches remaining on your needle…”
Whether she was befuddled by my addition of a word to the English language, or simply unamused by my wit, I’ll never know.
Regardless, I emerged from the shop with a new skein of yarn and a renewed dose of optimism for my upcoming endeavor.
There was a time in my life when I never would have walked into that shop for fear of what the “real” knitters would think of me. You know. The ones who proudly wear their handmade wraps along with a button directing you to “Keep Calm and Carry Yarn.”
I am a hypersensitive over-analyzer. I used to spend countless hours watching the expressions and body language of others during our interactions. I worried about saying the wrong thing. I wondered what everyone thought of me. I imagined the worst.
Something shifted when I turned 40.
Maybe it was the realization that life is short, and it passes all too quickly.
Maybe, it was the fact that I finally became comfortable in my skin.
Regardless of what perpetuated the change, I have become much less obsessed with other people’s opinions of me. (As evidenced by the fact that I proudly marched into that knitting store.) Moreover, without the weight of that worry, I feel incredibly free.
It’s highly unlikely that I will be posting a knitting tutorial anytime soon. But, I will continue to be a cheerleader for those fellow hypersensitive souls who are just beginning to realize that it’s how we view ourselves that matters most.