Underneath the futon, where I slept when I was home (my brother converted my old bedroom into his office – cutting a hole in the wall where our closets aligned… My mom has a lot of patience), I found a big plastic bin filled with my old school books, journals, postcards, and a little film case containing my baby teeth.  One afternoon I poured over the contents of this bin. I read through old book reports, perused my grade 12 yearbook (that was… fun. Is my sarcasm evident?), looked through copies of the school newspaper I started when I was in grade 8, read through my poetry notebook from elementary school, and discovered this:

“Ways not to be shy”

– by Christine Bissonnette at (approximately) 12 years old

1. Eat more surger
2. Say what’s on your mind
3. Be a dare devil
4. Don’t be afraid to let your expressions come forward
5. don’t care what people think
6. actually danse during danses
7. don’t be afraid to ask questions
8. listen to your mind, not the mind of others
9. Flirt
10. act normally in school

** Spelling as written in my notebook

While there’s quite a bit wrong with this list (number nine concerns me a bit, and number one seems to be a pre-teen’s version of “get drunk”), there’s actually a few that perhaps have some merit.

I still struggle with number eight. I find that when I’m in the presence of people with particularly strong personalities, my own voice has a tendency to be drowned out. I can’t hear my thoughts, and I turn into some sort of mindless head bobber just trying to stay afloat. It’s a weird sensation – to lose touch with your identity. There’s definitely a difference between being an introvert and being shy. When you’re shy, it’s not that you’re ‘choosing’ silence, but rather that the people you’re surrounded by are intimidating you in such a way that, even if threatened at gun point, your authentic self sort of evaporates into a sea of mush and white noise. When I’m feeling shy, there’s not a chance in hades that the self I bring to this blog would be allowed to surface.

I still have not discovered a remedy for this affliction, although it’s definitely getting better with time. Maybe it’s the journaling, maybe it’s this blog, maybe it’s acting school, maybe it’s running – maybe it’s a combination of every little and small success that I’ve achieved in my life. Being shy is all about fear, and with every instance that you prove to yourself that you’re a little bit more than what you thought you were, maybe you overcome your shyness… even a little bit.

As for the other things on this list: I’m still learning how to dance in public, and I’m still very concerned with what other people think of me. I rarely say what’s on my mind (although I now frequently write what’s on my mind) and I often can be seen pursing my lips in a tight smile when I’m feeling uncomfortable and “shy.” Although I try very hard to take risks, I don’t know that I would fashion myself a “dare devil.” As for number four (“don’t be afraid to let your expressions come forward”), I think that perhaps I had something like this blog in mind when I wrote that.

When I wrote this list, fitting in was the most important thing in the world. Looking back, I’ve realized that my junior and high school experience was a culmination of attempts to prove not only that I wasn’t shy, but that I wasn’t introverted. I ran for student government, I joined the improv club, I danced on the pep squad. All through grade school I also struggled to make friends and find a niche where I felt I belonged. I was too preoccupied with the self worth that comes from being liked by a boy, and I felt that my introversion was holding me back from being like the popular kids. Ugh, if you only knew how badly I wanted to be like the ‘popular kids.’

Now (especially after reading Quiet: The power of introverts in a world that can’t stop talking by Susan Cain), I’ve come to appreciate my introversion as being a very special part of who I am. In fact, I’m glad that I wasn’t normal in school, because if I had been ‘normal’ perhaps I wouldn’t be sitting here now. There’s nothing wrong with being quiet, and while I realize that I still do need to let loosen a little bit, maybe part of loosening up has to do with getting rid of the strain of trying to be someone that I’m not. I’m tired of laughing at jokes that aren’t funny and I’m tired of decoding motives in an effort to please.

I recently listened to an audio interview with Cheryl Richardson (author of the book The Art of Extreme Self -Care) and she had this to say:

“piss off one person every day for 30 days. Intentionally look for ways to disappoint people”

Cheryl recommended that you keep a log of the one person you say “no” to each day. She claims that by doing this you will regain your life.

I think she might be on to something.

My musings on this topic are far from over, but that’s all I have for now.

Thoughts?