Recently at school I was talking to a colleague. I asked a question, he gave me a serious answer. This man usually jokes around a lot, so I really enjoyed having a more intimate conversation with him. When he’s joking around, I find myself playing along and being part of it. But… if I’m honest about it… it’s work for me. At some level I’m not enjoying myself. To understand why this is so, you need to hear about the shy, awkward teenager I was.
I was always shy, feeling more comfortable with adults than kids my own age.
That’s true as far back as I can remember, even at the age of five. Fast forward to 17. I’m at regular weekend get-togethers at the homes of friends in my youth group. Most of the kids are known to me, week after week. I’m the one sitting on a chair in the corner, smile on my face, watching everyone else mingling and having (or seeming to have) a good time. And I sit. And watch. And then it’s over and I go home. I’ve been out, but I might as well have stayed home for all the socializing I didn’t do.
And one day I just decided that it was no way to live, that I had to get past my own shyness and insecurity and just ‘get out there’. So I did. At the next party, I forced myself to be part of conversations, laugh, make jokes, maybe even flirt a little… in other words, I was a participant, not an observer. And when it was over, I was EXHAUSTED! It was such hard work and took everything out of me.
Like any other skill, this one took practice. Week after week I worked it, until one day (probably years later) it came automatically. No doubt about it, it’s a great skill to develop. Truth be told, though, I still don’t enjoy large groups of people. I much prefer
small groups or one-on-one where I can talk to people at a deeper level and really get to know them. I can hold my own just about anywhere, but it’s not as satisfying, and I find I need some down time afterwards.
Fast forward 40 years, to that morning in school. You see, it had all become so automatic that I didn’t think about it anymore. And then the AHA moment. I don’t need to engage in those ‘one of the guys’ moments all the time. It’s okay to sit back and just be the ‘quiet’ me. I’m glad I pushed myself in my teen years — my life definitely changed for the better. I am proud of my courage and determination at that tender age. I wouldn’t want to be the person I was back then. But I don’t need that attention, not so much of it, anymore. I’m more settled and accepting of me. Age and experience give you that, and thank goodness, too. I don’t have that kind of energy now. And, as the song says, “I gotta be me.”
Be well, be strong, be courageous parents!
Sometimes the problem is fear. You want it to be perfect, you kind of know how to make it perfect, but you’re not sure you can pull it off. It becomes overwhelming. Then, because you’re so overwhelmed you don’t do it. You never take that first step. Thank goodness you opened that door for me. It’s like the floodgates opened!
Risk is OK. If it doesn’t work the first time, I’ll figure it out and do something differently next time. No one will think any less of me.
How’s THAT for a life lesson?
Rhonda, it’s an amazing lesson. We keep playing this story in our head and it keeps us stuck. Today in school my 6th graders were doing short oral presentations and one girl said how nervous she was about doing it. As a class we talked about what the fear was. But the fear was for something that was imagined, the event hadn’t even happened yet. Look how we sabotage ourselves and become so anxious. I experience it, too, as a public speaker. What if I mess up? What will people think? The fact is that the mistake may be what I remember, but it’s not what they remember.