I used to be shy. Really, really shy. For most of elementary school, middle school, and the beginning of high school, I was a quiet girl. I wouldn’t raise my hand much in class, I wouldn’t really talk to anyone except my few best friends, and I would never think to volunteer for anything that required me to make a fool of myself in front of other people. But over the years, this changed.
I like to think the beginning of me coming out of my shell came in sixth grade. My best friend, a loud, boisterous, curly-haired girl (my opposite) told me she was auditioning for Snow White at the local children’s theater, and wanted me to try out, too. I’d always been interested in theater; after all, I was the artsy kid. At first, I was hesitant, but on a whim, I decided to audition. I was cast as Happy the Dwarf, and thus thrown into the world of theater. Before I knew it, my cast-mates became my family, and my director became a woman I could love and trust. The most monumental thing I learned to do during my many years acting at the children’s theater was to make fun of myself. At first, I never wanted to do any of the silly improv exercises. I was so embarrassed to get up in front of all the people in my cast and talk like an alien or pretend to be an angry dog or make up a rap song about straws. I would never volunteer, and when I had to do it, I always tried to make it less embarrassing than it was. It was not fun.
But I would look up at that little stage and see my older cast mates and my director being silly, being loud, being “embarrassing”, and I realized… it’s not embarrassing. It’s fun. It’s funny, it’s admirable, it’s goofy, it’s lovable. They exuded confidence up there, doing things I thought were stupid with such carefree spirits. So, slowly, I came out of my shell. I did goofy, silly things. It made people laugh. When I got older, the younger kids saw me onstage doing goofy, silly things, and I gave them the same confidence that I once felt when I was their age. I was making people feel comfortable, and it felt so good. I took that confidence off the stage and into the rest of my life at the theater. I made a name for myself. The younger kids looked up to me, and they felt comfortable around me because I was comfortable with myself. That’s the most important realization I could’ve made in my life.
Eventually, I brought that into my life outside of the doors of the theater. I was still a shy girl through middle school and the beginning of high school, but slowly, in certain classes, I started feeling more comfortable with myself. I started talking more. I started raising my hand more. I joined more clubs in high school, I talked to new people. And once I met someone, I was completely and unapologetically me. I saw how being honest and being silly made other people more comfortable, and that’s what I did it for. I loved it.
I know not every shy person is going to go join a theater troupe and start years of acting to come out of their shell. But that’s just my story. It could’ve started anywhere, I just needed a push. Some people are born outgoing, like my curly-haired companion who got me to do theater, but I think the feeling is somewhere in everyone. We just need a little push, to get us to realize it. I’m still an introvert. I like my alone time, I like reading books and sleeping and cats and I get tired of people after a while. I think big parties are overrated. But these things don’t mean I can’t still speak my mind, make fun of myself, raise my hand in class, and joke around with new people. Every time I meet someone new, I act like we’ve been friends for years. I let my true self come through, because there’s no point in hiding it. Simply being comfortable in being you is how to come out of your shell, and it’s the most rewarding feeling. Don’t be afraid to be goofy, to make yourself comfortable, and to ask a lot of questions. You’ll notice the difference, I promise. And you can still watch Netflix alone in your bed, don’t worry.