Shyness has loomed over me my entire life.
Shyness, in my case, I feel, refers to a bad case of social anxiety and low self-esteem, resulting in an intense fear of speaking.
I’m talking clinically shy. The childhood cliché of clinging to my mom’s legs at social events just never left me.
I went full days without speaking in high school. I cried after raising my hand throughout middle school just from the mere pressure of being perceived.
In sixth grade, my English teacher presented an award to me for my writing skills, but was sure to include in his speech to our entire sixth-grade class and teachers that it was “despite my shyness and lack of participation.”
It wasn’t until I was a junior in high school that I realized that relationships were formed through conversations. I’m not quite sure how I came to this obvious realization, but it was gut-wrenching in the sense that I realized I may never be “good enough” to form the friendships I wanted.
Anyone who has been given the label of “shy girl” knows how damaging it can be. The second the label is bestowed, an enormous amount of pressure is put onto you. Every word you say now feels defiant—like you are trying to deny the label, even if you really just want to add your input.
I never feel bad about my inclination to listen and lack of participation until it is brought up. Unfortunately, it has been brought to my attention so often that I am severely aware of how I am perceived at all times.
While I have made every effort to overcome my shyness, it is merely a façade. A shy girl still lives inside of me.
My face still turns red when attention is directed towards me, no matter how I feel about it. My body becomes deregulated by normal conversation.
At least once a week, the fear that everyone sees through my charade gets the best of me. I become hysterical at the thought that I’m not fooling anyone with my false confidence and forced laughter, and that I really am just a weird, outcast girl.
This fear seeps into every interaction I have. Unironically, it plagues my life.
(Now, you’re probably thinking– girl, get on meds–but they have yet to relieve these ailments.)
This summer at my internship, the other interns told me that they had discussed how I was always “just chilling.” Regardless of what they actually meant by this, it absolutely shattered my self-perception. I had felt like I was pretty on par with the rest of them. I definitely talked less, but not in a way that I thought was insanely noticeable.
The funny thing about being shy is that sometimes people equate quietness with self-righteousness. I’ve never understood this phenomenon, as it is so clearly backwards.
This perception puts further pressure to reject the “shy girl” stereotype– at least in my case.
Any shy girl can attest to the multitude of feelings brought on by the pinnacle conversation with a new acquaintance who shamelessly exclaims, “You’re so shy!” or “I didn’t think you could talk!” Or more specifically, the urge to reply, “You’re so loud and self-obsessed!” to the comment.
Being shy is not an inherent weakness! There should be no shame in shyness. Ironically, I feel that my major shyness came from the shame and anxiety I felt about being shy.
Admittedly, I have done everything in my power to separate myself from my lifelong “quiet girl” label. However, I do want to make it clear that there is nothing wrong with being shy. I have just found that it brings damaging social interactions and judgment.
This is not a critique of being shy, but rather an account of how shyness has impacted me and the general social perception of shyness.
And truly, it isn’t all bad! My acute listening skills make me a better friend.
I am always apt to listen to my friends’ issues and analyze their problems. I remember small details and upcoming events in their lives, which helps me with more thoughtful communication and actions.
My aversion to talking fostered a love of writing, which has brought so much joy and fulfillment to my life!
As much as I try to run from it, my shyness has shaped every aspect of my life. For better or worse, it has driven me to challenge myself every day, presenting me with opportunities that my younger self could never imagine.
And for that, I can’t help but be grateful to live the life of a shy girl.