The Wallflower and the Loudmouth

Posted on | July 28, 2009 | No Comments

I like to think of myself as a fairly self-assured person. I’m pretty comfortable with who I am. But who I am isn’t always obvious.

When I first started working after college, I had colleagues comment on how quiet I was. I simply sat at my desk and did my work. I wasn’t unfriendly; I just wasn’t loud. When my parents heard this, they laughed and asked me if my co-workers were confusing me with someone else.

It’s not like me to be quiet, at least not with family and good friends. In fact, most of the time, you can’t shut me up (hence this blog, where I can’t be interrupted). But there are times when I’m not being me, when I’m closed up and reserved in a way that is, in many ways, a contradiction.

Sometimes, it’s a matter of appropriateness. Some situations – work, funerals, any public place – call for more restrained behavior. But other times, even though it’s perfectly fine for me to be myself, I find that I hold back and become the wallflower.

Last weekend, I went to my friend’s wedding, where I only knew a few people. Throughout the ceremony and cocktail hour, I was able to make polite conversation with people I didn’t know and generally have a good time. But when the dancing started, I froze and claimed that I don’t dance in public.

The issue wasn’t really the dancing – in the end, a friend managed to get me out there. It was more about being suddenly afraid of having people watch me. It was as if someone flipped a switch and I became incredibly self-conscious. In my head, I imagined the people who I had previously conversed with pleasantly were now staring and judging me. I felt awkward and stiff.

Later, when I thought back to that moment, I felt frustrated. If it had been my family (for instance, my brother’s wedding) or a larger group of my friends, I would have jumped onto the dance floor without a second thought. I wouldn’t have cared how stupid I looked. But when faced with a room full of relative strangers, I panicked.

In retrospect, I realize most of the people in the room weren’t even thinking about me. It wasn’t my wedding, after all. And even if someone was silently judging me, why should I have cared? Why did I put so much importance in some random person’s opinion?

Sometimes I wish I could be the “real” me all the time – the loud, opinionated, bubbly, somewhat crazy me that my good friends and family know and love anyway. I hate that I sometimes get so caught up in self-consciousness that I can’t relax. I might to people more if I were better at just being me.

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