It turns out that the ladies at church call me “the flamboyant one.” I have no idea how I’m managing to be flamboyant at church. We aren’t Protestants. We are Orthodox, which means that parishioners stand in complete silence for 3 hours during service. We don’t speak, loudly confess our sins, exclaim “preach, brother!”, speak in tongues, wriggle on the floor, or lift our arms even when the choir sings “let’s lift our arms up to the Lord.”
My perception of myself has always been dramatically different from how others see me.
Sometimes all it takes is dressing in bright colors and talking with assurance.
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