“Style flexing”,  most people do it to a degree. It's how we communicate with others; it's often a subconscious shift in our personalities that allows us to converse, work, or get along with the majority of people in our lives. How many of us leave out the swear words when talking to our parents, teachers, or work colleagues? I would suggest it's most of us: that's style flexing at work. 

Bringing yourself up, or sometimes down, to try and interact equally with someone happens even more if you're going to that person for a favour, advice, or with a difficult question. It helps you to get the result you're looking for. Sneaky eh? Well, it would be if you were aware of it, and most of the time we aren't. 

Adoptees have a problem, however; they were given up. In a lot of cases, We grow up with a mistrust of the world and an underlying fear of being rejected again. It can make us flex our styles to the extreme. It's often referred to as being like a chameleon. 

Chameleons change the colour of their skin to suit their environment and blend in. It's not just a defense mechanism, it's like they are a mood ring, too. 

My experiences as an adoptee definitely reflect this. I am very insecure socially, feeling out of place, insignificant, and not required, or tolerated. So I try really hard to say the right thing or act the right way. I am constantly monitoring how the interaction is going, as if I'm trying to keep a saucepan of soup simmering and not boiling, just stirring and watching, turning up the heat, or backing it off. 

If I start to feel I'm not connecting as I want to with a person or environment then I lose confidence, and I begin to get the feeling others are irritated by my inclusion. I eventually retreat and become quiet, hoping I don't annoy anybody from then on. It often takes me all my powers to overcome this and dive in. It's exhausting.

I've spent so many years doing this extreme flexing that I'm not sure who I am anymore…if I ever knew. 

In my working life, I've been in some form of engineering role since I was 16 years old. That's thirty-four years and counting. But I feel I took on this role almost reluctantly. I have a very busy and creative mind, and it's led me into lots of other things over the years, trying to find “me”? Perhaps. Looking for who I really am? Possibly.

I've never considered myself a real engineer, it's just what I've been able to get away with and get paid for. However, since I was thirty, I've been a painter and decorator, a wooden flooring fitter, a pro photographer, a web designer, a teacher, a guitar maker, and now I'm a writer. All these jobs were side hustles. Don't they just scream, "This guy has no idea who he is!"?

When I recently told someone I was a maintenance engineer, they were surprised, expecting me to be doing something that was more akin to the arts due to having this creative spirit. As you might know, my birth name was David. I've always maintained that David died when I was adopted, and Andy lives on. Perhaps though, Andy is the engineer, and David is the arty creative one. He's not dead at all. He's still here, living side by side with Andy. Living out a parallel life in the same dimension. 

Style flexing in relationships is something that must be very common, too. Laughing at your new partner's jokes, even though you may have had funnier headaches. Or agreeing to see a show because they love it and you want to appear supportive and interested in their life, but all the time wondering if it might be possible to go in disguise, just in case your mates catch sight of you. We do it out of love for that person, but isn't there a part of us that feels that it makes the journey together a little easier too? 

In relationships, I take it to the next level and try to be what I  believe the other person needs me to be. Of course, the truth is far from that, that new partner is more than happy with who I am to begin with. Not that I'm aware that I'm doing it at the time.

In the past I've gone from being an avid TV watcher to someone who hates having the TV on. I've thrown away furniture that I’d previously spent hours restoring so as to change it to a new style just because it wasn't to the other's taste. I've even become a smoker again after years of abstinence just because the new partner smoked. I lose my identity in a heartbeat for the chance to be with someone.

I’ve heard from a lot of partners, “You are an enigma.” Of course I'm an enigma to them: the person they first met is changing in front of their very eyes, altering his skin colour to suit the new environment. And for what?

Adoptees already know what I'm going to say next I'm sure. All together now! 

“Because I don't want to be left alone again!”

Why do I always end up on my own then…eh?

I’m working on it. I'm not going to guess anymore. I've done enough of that.

I’ll get back to you.

You can read more of Andy’s work at www.whoswally.co.uk

Image: © Andy Wallis