Mar092009
Shy Kids
Filed under History by Kim at 3:47 pm on Mar 09 2009
Recently Genie pointed me to a post on finslippy that reminded me of an apocryphal story I often tell from my youth. I shall immortalize it here, and perhaps my mom will comment and tell her side of the story or tell me I’m full of shit.
As a kid I was the kind of shy that is interpreted as cute right up until it’s rude. My parents could hardly take me places and I didn’t want to interact with anyone who wasn’t them (right up until I was a tween, commencing the “I want to interact with anyone BUT my parents” stage). As a really small child, when other adults were around I would hide physically behind my parents, furniture, whatever I could.
It went that way with other kids my age, too. My mother was determined to put me in every activity she could get me into, I guess on the notion that it would turn me into an overachieving genius. I refused as much as possible unless an already established friend was going with me. Dance class? Convince Amy’s parents to let her go with me. Summer camp? Only if Mona is going. I was not interested in meeting new people on my own. I still recall sitting on the floor of a gym being arranged in summer arts camp “homerooms” wishing the earth would crack open and swallow me into its safe, non-populated bosom.
So I will never forget one terrifying afternoon when my mother espied a lone child on a bicycle riding liesurely up and down our street. For me, that was my cue to go inside. For my mother, it was a chance to get me to “come out of my shell”. After lots of whingeing and tussling and attempted emotional blackmail from both parties, my mother finally somehow got me out the front door, where she stood in the doorway and told me that she was locking this door and I couldn’t re-enter the house until I’d talked to the girl.
The Horror.
I have no idea what I said to her (I recall I thought of her as somewhat a victim of my mother’s cruel plan, or at least collateral damage) or what she said to me or how awkward it was. I primarily remember looking down the street and thinking “there is no way I’m just going to talk to this person and they are going to talk back”. She actually ended up as one of my neighborhood pals (Amy R.? A different Amy? There were several Amys…) for years after.
Whatever my mother’s motives, in retrospect, forcing me to socialize was probably the right thing to do. If I had terrible self-esteem, or was just an introvert, or simply was really sensitive – whatever it was – I needed to be pushed, I think, to abandon my concept of what was going to happen and give things a try.
Nowadays I might have a hard time walking into a situation cold (who doesn’t) but I don’t have the concept cemented in my head that it can’t possibly work. I know it could go either way and that the only way I’ll find out is if I talk to people. Otherwise how would I manage to go to ProgDay year after year all alone? You notice I still do try to recruit someone to go with me…
I often wonder about the people who can’t relate to this experience. Who are those people? Did they recieve some sequence of DNA I didn’t? How were they not imbued with the idea that social interactions are sure to go horribly wrong?
1 Genieon 09 Mar 2009 at 6:50 pm
It’s been interesting for me to see how you’ve changed from how anxious you were as a pre-teen to how you are now. There are still sprinklings of anxiety here and there, but you keep your shit together and do a lot of really brave things on a regular basis (e.g. RockCamp, nursing, moving, etc.). So I think your mom did pretty well by you, all told.
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Kim Reply:
March 10th, 2009 at 10:42 pm
I would LOVE to ask you for a memory of what my anxiety was like then, from an outside perspective, but you are a busy lady. I have no memory of thinking of myself as anxious then, but because I found a letter here or there that I’d written, I know I was aware of it!
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2 Angela @ Lost In Splendoron 12 Mar 2009 at 9:04 am
I was one of those kids that totally didn’t have this problem. I was always loud and boisterous and would constantly be making new friends and trying to make people laugh. I don’t know if it had something to do with me bring the youngest of four in a house where you kind of needed to work for attention or not.
It wasn’t until I was about 8 years old I started to get a little more shy. That’s when I started getting chubbier and more self-conscious, but I still have memories all through my school years of my crazy outgoing antics.
I have to be honest, if I had a child who was so introverted like you I would have probably done exactly what your mother did. I just wouldn’t want my child to feel so insecure or not have anyone their own age to talk to or play with.
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Kim Reply:
March 12th, 2009 at 2:49 pm
Oh! You know, it might be a sibling thing, because Jack’s younger siblings seem to have no fear or self-consciousness issues. Some of my other friends that fall into the “youngest” category also lack the social anxiety I have always had.
For a long time for me, it was my height. Until I was about 11, I was always the tallest… you know, until everyone shot past me. I really felt like all the other kids were STARING AT ME. I would stand funny just to combat this… which probably made it worse!
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3 Prosaic Paradise » On Extroversionon 09 Nov 2009 at 3:13 pm
[…] is such a learned response. (See: My mother locking me out of the house so I’d socialize.) I liken it in my head to being a salesperson. It’s an interesting line, the line between […]