I was never an outgoing child. My mother still tells me the story of my Grandfather (a man who raised 6 children) who pulled her aside one day while we were visiting to say "There is something wrong with her (me), she's too quiet." My mother laughed and assured him there was NOT anything wrong with me, I just wasn't as rambunctious as my cousins...at least not in a space that wasn't mine. He was doubtful. I can't say I blame him. I was sitting on the floor playing quietly by myself while my cousins (there were 13 of us) ran and screamed and played loudly. Of course, I was the only one of us that was an only child, I think in many ways that molded the way I interacted with other children. So I suppose I was always a bit odd to those from big families.
My grandfather came to our house a few weeks later to help fix a hot water heater. I was talkative, loud and very annoying. My mother looked at my grandfather and with a smirk asked if he still thought there was something wrong with me. After retrieving his hat from me for about the hundredth he looked at her, sighed and said "No".
While this story is cute and it brings my mother joy to retell it, it kind of sets the stage for the hardships I was about to encounter out in the real world. While I was the master of my own space, spending hours creating elaborate stories for my dolls and fisher price playsets, when interacting in groups I was anxiety-ridden and full of fear. School was not a fun time for me. When asked what I remember about kindergarten, I can pull up a few memories. The most vivid is the sound of the fire alarm. I was terrified of fire and would have dreams of being stuck in a burning building and dying. Every time I had to go through a fire alarm I would have a full blown panic attack. The second thing I remember with vivid detail is cutting out construction paper noses for our Rudolph projects. I was sitting at a round table with other kids and actually interacting with one of them who I considered my friend. We were putting the noses we cut out on our own noses and laughing. We were then yelled at and humiliated by the teachers assistant and made to hold the noses on our faces while she pointed out how we weren't listening and how stupid we looked. I was HORRIFIED. I don't think there is anything I like less than being the center of attention...especially when it is in such a negative form. I lived in fear of something similar happening again, so I just stopped interacting. Thankfully I was fairly intelligent and rarely had an issue with school work because thanks to that interaction there was absolutely no way I would ever ask for help.
I was most comfortable remaining invisible. I was better at it than I thought. My generation loves Facebook. Quite honestly it's a great way to keep up with family and friends and keep tabs on those you spent years sitting next to in math class. I added people I went to school with...for years. I grew up in a very small community, so small groups of us would get together on summer evenings and play man hunt...all over the town. So I was a little perplexed when one person didn't remember who I was. I was blown away when it happened several more times. That isn't to say no one remembers me, there are those that did and do. But the confusion about who I am and who I was really came to a head when people I spent years in school with couldn't pull up any pertinent memory of me and had no idea what my name was. I had to ask myself if I felt like I was important enough to leave behind a memory of who I really am, deep down. I found myself saying "Yes...I am important enough." And so here I am pushing away years of fear, pain, and guilt and, stepping into the person I have always known I could be.