introspection
I sometimes forget that I am shy.
I have a wonderful, wonderful group of friends. Around them, I am loud and enjoy attention (sometimes too much so) and try to be in the middle of things, laughing and happy and having fun. I get used to that me, which is definitely not a shy me. Sometimes quiet and not needing to be in the center, content to watch, but confident in my place. When I teach, I am aware of my role of authority and have no problems, even when parents insist on sitting in the lesson with me. At auditions and speech classes and teaching pre-schoolers, I am secure and open and myself.
Sunday, I remembered that I am shy. I went to a baptism at a church where I knew practically no one, and my initial instinct was to cling for dear life to the one person I was with. I answered rather monosyllabically (is that even a word? It should be!) to most questions and comments directed my way, smiling and trying to be friendly while at the same time trying to hide behind Ryan. I remember working diligently to keep my eyes from being as wide as saucers the whole time. When left alone, I tried my best to sink into the pew and disappear until such time as my friendly face would return to support me and keep me from drowning.
This is not a familiar feeling anymore. I mean, it occurred quite frequently when I came back to ASU; the feeling of being surrounded by unfamiliar people, hoping desperately for someone to reach out to me because I am too paralyzed to initiate more than a timid, shaking smile. But by spring break, I became enmeshed in this wonderful group of people, and timidity was replaced with confidence in camaraderie, so much so that I forgot I was shy.
Until now. I remember now. Silent, deer in headlights expression, arms crossed, sitting in a corner, feeling totally dependent on my one human lifeline.
I worry now about the impression I must have made, clichés about first impressions whirling madly around inside my head.
Even despite my intense and unexpected reaction, the service was quite enjoyable. A great deal of food for thought - not that my mind has been able to stop churning for the last six months or so.
I have a wonderful, wonderful group of friends. Around them, I am loud and enjoy attention (sometimes too much so) and try to be in the middle of things, laughing and happy and having fun. I get used to that me, which is definitely not a shy me. Sometimes quiet and not needing to be in the center, content to watch, but confident in my place. When I teach, I am aware of my role of authority and have no problems, even when parents insist on sitting in the lesson with me. At auditions and speech classes and teaching pre-schoolers, I am secure and open and myself.
Sunday, I remembered that I am shy. I went to a baptism at a church where I knew practically no one, and my initial instinct was to cling for dear life to the one person I was with. I answered rather monosyllabically (is that even a word? It should be!) to most questions and comments directed my way, smiling and trying to be friendly while at the same time trying to hide behind Ryan. I remember working diligently to keep my eyes from being as wide as saucers the whole time. When left alone, I tried my best to sink into the pew and disappear until such time as my friendly face would return to support me and keep me from drowning.
This is not a familiar feeling anymore. I mean, it occurred quite frequently when I came back to ASU; the feeling of being surrounded by unfamiliar people, hoping desperately for someone to reach out to me because I am too paralyzed to initiate more than a timid, shaking smile. But by spring break, I became enmeshed in this wonderful group of people, and timidity was replaced with confidence in camaraderie, so much so that I forgot I was shy.
Until now. I remember now. Silent, deer in headlights expression, arms crossed, sitting in a corner, feeling totally dependent on my one human lifeline.
I worry now about the impression I must have made, clichés about first impressions whirling madly around inside my head.
Even despite my intense and unexpected reaction, the service was quite enjoyable. A great deal of food for thought - not that my mind has been able to stop churning for the last six months or so.
I don't know what to say other than, I know exactly what you mean. <3
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