It should be easy after all of these years, but it is still work. For a long time, I couldn’t do it at all, but now, I can just barely get by. My young self, the one that was forced to walk around the playground in the 3rd grade with a sign that said “I am a slob” appears and I go silent. I shrink back inside where I am alone and safe, even though I am not alone, I am in the midst of normal, happy-talking people.
What is this terrifying social interaction that is so difficult for me to deal with? Small talk. A social conversation about normal affairs of light import. The stuff that normal people do all of the time. Over the years, I have developed a limited skill and so do not have to disappear inside, or very very rarely.
I can do one-on-one conversations with pure ease. I can stand up on a stage in front of a thousand people and communicate in a vulnerable or humorous or heartfelt way with no problem. Put me in a party with socially adept normal people talking about everyday activities and the little one rises up inside to let me know that I am strange and incapable of the simplest things.
Years of therapy have been spent on this and now, I pay attention as soon as the little one appears. I let him know that it is OK and that he doesn’t have to hide or wear the “I am a slob” sign. And if I pay attention to his concern, he calms down, and then I can act a bit more normally. It should be easy after all of these years, but yet it is not. I understand that this social awkwardness, this painful shyness in specific situations is my loss. I’ve missed out on some potentially wonderful friendships because of it.
So I continue to work on something that should be so easy, but to me is not. Difficult, but worthwhile.
Confession: It was a loud party tonight, and I am finishing typing this in the kitchen. I’ll be better next time, I promise.
— DanielSouthGate
What is this terrifying social interaction that is so difficult for me to deal with? Small talk. A social conversation about normal affairs of light import. The stuff that normal people do all of the time. Over the years, I have developed a limited skill and so do not have to disappear inside, or very very rarely.
I can do one-on-one conversations with pure ease. I can stand up on a stage in front of a thousand people and communicate in a vulnerable or humorous or heartfelt way with no problem. Put me in a party with socially adept normal people talking about everyday activities and the little one rises up inside to let me know that I am strange and incapable of the simplest things.
Years of therapy have been spent on this and now, I pay attention as soon as the little one appears. I let him know that it is OK and that he doesn’t have to hide or wear the “I am a slob” sign. And if I pay attention to his concern, he calms down, and then I can act a bit more normally. It should be easy after all of these years, but yet it is not. I understand that this social awkwardness, this painful shyness in specific situations is my loss. I’ve missed out on some potentially wonderful friendships because of it.
So I continue to work on something that should be so easy, but to me is not. Difficult, but worthwhile.
Confession: It was a loud party tonight, and I am finishing typing this in the kitchen. I’ll be better next time, I promise.
— DanielSouthGate
I love that little boy. You bring him to life not just with your stories - with your love.
ReplyDeleteYou are already doing two important things: the one-on-one and the speaking to a crowd. It will continue to get better in the middle there. There's no rush or deadline. I find that I am uncomfortable with people who are not like me in terms of income and notions of the importance of income. Basically, I'm poor, so I look for other poor people. I have trust issues also, even one-on-one. I can, however, as you can, speak to a crowd! A stage is a safe place for some of us! Finely written, as usual. (Macoff)
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing of yourself so vulnerably, and in such a beautiful way.
ReplyDelete