"Balk, balk," says the chicken grandma
I admit it: I'm a big ol' chicken. I'm not afraid of bugs or scary movies -- most of the time -- but I quake in my briefs at the prospect of being confronted with new situations, new places, new faces. I'm especially afraid of new situations and new places that include new faces to which I'm supposed to speak and seem intelligent ... or at least not come off like the timid, blithering numbskull I worry about being at such times.
To put it more succinctly, I'm afraid of social situations. I'm afraid of them (and often avoid them) because I don't see myself as someone good at small talk and definitely not as a confident and courageous speaker.
Surprisingly, I've recently learned that some folks -- folks I've known for years -- consider me anything but timid, and more like a capable and confident conversationalist.
Jim and I were invited to a friend's house for dinner Saturday night, a friend who used to be my boss, a friend who has seen me at my worst as I struggled through the teen years with my daughters, and at my best as I wrote some pretty darn good articles for the publications for which he served as editor. I thought the guy knew me fairly well.
But as we slurped our French Onion Soup (a culinary delight made by his wife), the conversation somehow turned to my fear of speaking to strangers -- a certain obstacle for a writer expected to conduct interviews on a regular basis. My friend/former editor stopped mid-slurp, surprised by my admission, and said, "I've never considered you timid. I'm surprised to hear you say that."
Wow! I was more than surprised that he thought I was anything but timid.
He's not alone, apparently. One of my four sisters, the one with whom I've spent the least amount of time throughout our childhood and adulthood but recently partnered with in a writing venture, has expressed again and again in the last six months that she thinks -- despite her previous perception of me as the "quiet one" -- that I'm actually the "mean one" of the sisters, the tough one that takes no bull, the "beeyotch" as she lovingly called me while expressing her confidence that I'd succeed in small claims court because of my beeyotchiness and way with words.
Wow again! Wow! Wow!
Really, guys, I truly am a chicken.
But I'm apparently a chicken who has mastered the cover up, the faking it til making it, the ability to feel the fear and do it anyway with the guarantee that -- as I often told my daughters who were scared of upcoming social situations or confrontations -- no one can see the fear rattling around inside your heart and head and thus have no idea how darn scared and lacking in confidence you may be.
The revelation elicited by the admissions from my friend and my sister has me wondering how Bubby will see me, how he'll view his grandma. As part of my inner circle, will he, like Jim and the girls, see the real grandma, the chicken grandma who's scared of strangers, of her inability to speak eloquently, of her paralyzing paranoia that something bad is bound to happen the moment she steps outside the confines of her home if she's required to open her mouth and speak while out in the real world?
Or will Bubby see me as a kooky and courageous grandma who's willing to scramble around the bouncy house regardless of who may see? Or bang on the piano with him regardless of who may hear? Or read him stories loud and proud with nary a concern about anyone else hearing her rumbling and grumbling and roaring like a monster if that's what the story demands?
I hope that's the grandma Bubby sees. I hope that's the grandma he loves, the grandma who makes him grin ear to ear by saying "screw it" to speaking eloquently (out of his earshot, of course) and simply settles comfortably into just being herself.
Not only do I hope that's the grandma Bubby sees, I hope that's the grandma I truly will be.
I just need to let go of the timid little wrinkled-and-too-old-to-be-so-darn-self-conscious me I see in the mirror, embrace that beeyotchiness others see, and be the grandma I'm meant to be.
So here goes.
Watch out, world!
Today's question:
What are you afraid of?
My answer: In addition to the above, I'm also afraid of revealing too much about myself ... which I think I just did!
Monday, March 22, 2010
Reader Comments (17)
I swear to you, you crawled into my life and wrote that post about me. I am terrified of social situations and am so afraid I will come off as stupid to others. I am afraid to say the wrong things.
But, if you ask almost ANYONE they will say I am a confident over achiever. When the truth is I am a scared little kitten who has coped with this anxiety with one hell of a cover up.
I'm afraid of never doing anything worth really being proud of. Yep, still working on that.
I'm afraid of having more bills than money with which to pay them. Speaking in front of others has always been easy, probably because I know I'm NOT stupid and, if they think I am, that's their problem.
It's really me you're writing about! And I'm afraid people will realize I'm really who I think I am!
I'm afraid of social situations too. In my world, I'm pretty confident. Outside of it, not so much. And I don't do scary movies either!
It's so nice to hear from you guys that I'm not alone in my neuroses!
Oh ... so many things. Heights, people in costume, crowds, failure, large dogs ...
But I don't know that being fearful is the same as being timid.
But I also don't know how to qualify that on a Monday morning.
I am afraid of heights and spiders! And same here, I don't do scary movies. Lisa, you do fake it pretty darn good.
My fear is the same as yours. And people say the same thing about me too. It's crazy how we can be so terrified, yet don't appear that way at all. Hmmmm, I wonder what that says about us, lol.
Oh wow... what a great post!!
I have missed your blog sooo much while I've been away.
I think you're absolutely wonderful, and that's what your grandson will see, or already have figured out, that you are YOU.
And you're certainly not alone in your fears, but standing out above the crown for confronting them!
I heart you soo much!!
You are truly an inspiration ;)
I was going to say that I thought you wrote that post about me. . . until about ten other people beat me to it! But it is true of me, too. My most uncomfortable situation is a social situation where I know only one or two people. I can speak to a dozen or so people, but put me in front of a larger audience, and I get the fantods. I read long ago that fear of speaking in public is the most common fear, and I think it must be.
I have a sister, too. She was always the fearless one, the assertive one, the popular one. I was the bookworm and the shrinking violet. Now we seem to have changed places. We've worked together a lot recently to manage my father's care, and I was shocked to learn that people see me as the take-charge sister--and the one who is a bit of a bee-yotch. I was shocked, but secretly pleased, just like you.
Isn't it great that grandchildren accept you in spite of your shortcomings. Children know when someone is sincere and really cares about them. I think Bubby sees that love in you.
The only reason I know this about you is that I'm the same way and we've discussed it before. But you're such a good faker that I wouldn't have known if you hadn't told me, and I wish I were as good at pretending to be social as you are. Maybe I'll pick it up as I raise my kids and have to stand up for them and fight whatever battles come our way. Hope so.
My fear is, hands down, social situations with people I don't know. Hell, I often feel awkward and uncomfortable with people I *do* know. So, um, all social situations, I guess.
Is it any surprise, with nearly every one of these comments revealing the shared fear of social situations, that the Internet has become the coffee klatch of choice? We don't have to meet and talk, but can still converse and be friendly -- all with no awkwardness ... with a backspace/delete opportunity for editing ourselves, to boot!
I gotta admit, I worried the comments for this post might be primarily nice ways of saying "you're a dork, Lisa," so it's really great to hear that we're all so similar!
I think you're wonderful, also. When you were little, I did think of you as the "quiet" one, but you were also the most loving.
People scare me to death. No one sees that and I don't even try to hide it. I just appear to be comfortable when I'm dying inside. What a gift!
I am afraid of failing in this writing venture. What if I've taken this huge chunk of my life and it all becomes just a waste? It truly paralyzes me. And honestly, it is why I haven't shopped around my novel, yet, because I'm scared.
I know nothing will ever come of unread words and so I must just close my eyes and jump. Failure would be not to try because of the fear. I'll do it. I'm getting a little braver every day.
And isn't it funny, how we see ourselves one way, usually in a more negative manner than how the rest of the world perceives us.
Great post.