Shy

 

Far be it from me to give advice to parents, but if you are doing anything like the following, please stop: When you introduce your kid to someone new and your kid looks down or starts acting nervous or awkward, don’t say, “Oh, he’s just shy!” Nothing freaks out a shy kid more than being publicly called out during an episode of shyness. You can talk to him later about how he felt and suggest that he try to make eye contact with new people when he’s being introduced, etc., but the “he’s shy” bit, which is almost always accompanied by a condescending giggle and statements like “isn’t that cute!” is quite counter-productive. There really isn’t anything cute about being shy, it’s just social anxiety that can often become debilitating. Everyone is shy to some extent, but the range of shyness from person to person is obviously enormous.

 

My daughter Leah just completed her first year of high school. Above is a picture of both of us in ninth grade. Hers was taken a few weeks ago at an end-of-the-year arts festival at her school. She was the only student to sing by herself in front of the crowd and she received cheers for her excellent performance despite the fact that the person operating the CD player messed up her music at the beginning and it took her a while to recover. If that had happened to me at a high school talent show, I might have run off the stage in tears. But then again, I never would have agreed to perform in a talent show.

I’m continually amazed at Leah’s courage in putting herself out there for all the world to see. Next week she’s appearing as Rafiki in a concert verion of “The Lion King.” It must be something like her 35th musical. Leah and I have discussed whether she and I would have been friends if we knew each other in high school. We have many interests in common so it’s quite possible, but I was very different from her as a teenager and not nearly as self-confident. Not that Leah doesn’t have moments of anxiety and shyness, but she has always been a lot more comfortable than I was socially. I rarely spoke to adults other than my family members when I was a kid while Leah considers many adults she knows good friends and she has no problem approaching strangers if necessary.

Here’s a photo I snapped this morning of Charlie at our daily outing to Farmers Market. It’s too soon to tell but I’d be very surprised if Charlie ended up shy in social situations. His favorite thing in the world is to interact with people, the more the merrier, and he tends to get agitated if an object of his attention isn’t immediately captivated by his smiles or waves! I obviously don’t remember being his age but my instincts tell me that I spent a lot of energy from my earliest days trying to avoid the attention of others.

Not that I was a wallflower. In some situations, with my friends and family, I was quite gregarious. Some people would even call me an extrovert. But if I have any regrets about my childhood, it’s that I was so often debilitated by my fear of social situations and my terror of judgment and ridicule. Worse, I usually camouflaged my fears with an air of bored “I can’t be bothered” faux-insouciance. Do you know the young actress Kristen Stewart, star of the “Twilight” films? I know very little about her and the only film of hers that I’ve seen is “Panic Room” which she made when she was 12. But now that she’s 20 and her career is sizzling hot, I’ve seen her on various awards shows (including as a presenter at the Oscars this year) and I’ve had a viscerally negative reaction to her demeanor. I could never understand why Stewart bothered me so much but I suddenly get it.  It’s because I see a part of my young, terrified self in her sighing, yawning, gum-chewing, oh-please-get-me-out-of-here sourpuss public persona. I can recognize that “I’m too cool to be enthusiastic about anything” act anywhere! I’m sure I also came off as obnoxiously above-it-all when I was in high school.

Here’s some rare footage I recently found of myself from high school. Note my severe social anxiety disorder and my attempts to deal with it:

I guess I’d have to say that I’m still basically a shy person but these days I’m much more likely to press “manual override” and interact with people in ways that I used to avoid. Of course, blogging is the ideal tool for the shy person who secretly wants to be outgoing. I can present myself to the online world as much as I’d like with little risk of blatant rejection. If people want to read my words, they will. If they aren’t interested, so be it. I used to be deathly afraid of speaking in public and I’m still very nervous when I do it, but I’ve discovered that part of me also enjoys it. I watch Leah sing her guts out in public and think how fantastic it must feel to express yourself in that way. Both she and Charlie remain my anti-shyness mentors.

Spending five months in the NICU was also an effective shyness-modifier. There’s just no room for timidity when you’re facing life-changing crises. In truth, at the age of 50, I just don’t have the time or energy to live my life in fear. I’m working hard to overcome my shyness whenever it rears its ugly head.

I can think of several cringe-producing episodes from my past that belong in my Shyness Hall of Shame. The first one that comes to mind took place when I was going to school in France for a year. I loved living in France and I loved the language but I was insecure about my French skills in social situations. One night I was invited to a party with a few other Americans at the apartment of some French people our age. Naturally my friends spoke French with our hosts. For some reason, I started off the evening in a snit of self-consciousness and was somehow pissed that my American friends were only speaking French. I went through the entire evening not saying a single word—NOT ONE WORD, as if I were mute. And I’m sure I had a disgusted Kristen Stewart expression on my face the whole time to cover up my rising panic. Oh, yawn, yawn, I can’t be bothered to speak this stupid language, why are my friends showing off with their French? The Frenchies must have thought I was the rudest person they’d ever met. These days I look for any opportunity to speak that beautiful language, even if I end up butchering it. It’s the only way to learn. 

I’ve moved on, of course, but I do regret all of the missed opportunities and missed friendships that my shyness caused. I know I’ll be working on counteracting my fears and social terrors for years to come but I’m grateful that I now realize the bounty that is available on the other side.

Comments

[Sue Katz]

Dear Marty (well, I thought I'd use your old nickname), I must admit to having rather unsympathetic feelings towards shy people. I've been self-conscious in situations where I know no one or understand little about the environment, but I'm not shy. I think there's a difference between the two, but I have encountered shy people who give me the impression that they consider themselves the center of the world. Their discomfort is much more important than the discomfort they are causing others with their silence or lack of reaction or refusal to take a position. I have seen shy people neglect to thank their hosts or try to make conversation with friends of friends because they are feeling shy. Get a grip, is always my feeling, you aren't the only person in the room. Shy people seem to me to be so wrapped up in themselves that they can't bother about what their attitude is doing to everyone around them. To me, joining a social situation requires some basic, if unspoken, participation and consideration. Having said all that, am I a terrible person?

[Julie R.]

It's funny, "shy" is not a word that comes to mind when I think of you. You do a good job of masking it.

[Maria Sosa]

I was dreadfully shy because I always felt different. In elementary school I was the only girl who liked sports, not playing sports but watching sports on TV and going to ball games. (Hard to believe but that was a long time ago. I was teased a lot for this. Also I was not girly. In high school I was the only Puerto Rican (at least to my knowledge) in a predominantly Jewish high schoo. I always felt that I never knew what to do in social situations and I did sort of buy in to the love self esteem tht I wasn't really as good as everyone else. You'd be amazed how many adults who should have known better helped to reinforce that view. I would be EXTREMELY surprised that my shyness had the effect on anyone that you describe Sue; I seriously doubt that my attitude did anything to anyone because frankly, I always was pretty certain that they didn't care about me one way or another. And as for social situations I was probably invited to about 5 parties in high school and I hope I thanked my hosts.

Sue, I think you might be mistaking true shyness for self-centeredness which can manifest itself as faux shyness, and yes, that can be obnoxious because it sort of suggests that the other person is somehow responsible for it. A truly shy person would be mortified to think that their behavior would create any kind of imposition on anyone else. They'd sooner be invisible than the object of anyone's attention.

[Maria Sosa]

Ugh...I obviously meant low self esteem in above post. And pardon for the other typos. As a shy person I'm now wishing I never said anything at all.

Just kidding. Not shy at all anymore.

[Sue Katz]

Maria,
You seem so sweet and I feel like my post sounds mean-spirited. But experiencing yourself outside the dominant culture - even if it's your school, not the whole society - is often painful. Race and ethnicity are especially strong dividers in this country and I can imagine the difficulty - but is that shyness? Or a bit of self-defense in a situation where you haven't been given the tools to fit in. I went through it in high school (being in love with a girl when discovery might lead to shock treatment and incarceration) and as an adult I'm amazed at how many people felt different as kids - miserably so. I just don't think a sense of invisibility or of being ignored or shut up is shyness. Thanks for such a considered response.

[Jan]

I was shy. I, too, remember specific times in my youth when others perceived me as rude and self-centered when I was actually immobilized by my lack of social graces. I would be in a situation, for example, where a simple "thank you" was called for, but I didn't say it right away because I was tongue-tied. Then I would agonize silently about having missed the opportunity, and wait for a chance to say it. But it would feel hopelessly awkward and too late. Finally, the opportunity would be completely past, and I would go down as the rude one who didn't even say "thank you."

I usually felt invisible in social situations, so it would have astounded me at the time to think anyone even cared what I said or didn't say.

This blog has stirred up a gazillion memories and reflections in me, but I'll leave it at that.

[Neil]

I instantly knew you had shyness in you the minute I met you. Shy people know each other. And NO WAY would Leah be your friend if you were classmates in high school. Sorry, Danny. She is way too cool for you. But I would. We would stand in the back and make fun of her.

[Campbell]

I have always been a shy person. I was one of those little kids that would hide behind their mother's legs whenever anyone would talk to me. It takes me a while to warm up to someone before I am able to get over that agonizing social anxiety and fear of negative judgment. After a social situations I am often exhausted but still replay the event in my head and worry about how I acted or was perceived. I don't think I am rude to hosts or strangers. At least I hope I'm not. I deeply care about how others around me feel so it's not that I can't be bothered to care about how my attitude affects them. It's quite the opposite. I probably care too much. Trust me, I am painfully aware that I am not the only person in the room and it would be so nice if I was able to get a grip.

[Danny]

Wow, this discussion is far more interesting than my post. While I think there may be a certain amount of narcissism attached to shyness, I don't think most shy people, especially children, have much control over that until they work on the underlying causes. I know that I often DID appear aloof and ungracious because of my social anxiety and that just made me feel so much worse. It took a long time to crawl out of that fear-based view of the world.

[Emily Barton]

>>I can recognize that “I’m too cool to be enthusiastic about anything” act anywhere!<<

Oh man, that was me from kindergarten through grade 12. Painfully, painfully shy and "way too cool" for all my peers. I've worked very, very hard to overcome it, but it still rears its ugly head when I meet someone else who is painfully shy. I am absolutely amazed by people (like my husband) who easily get up in front of a crowd and speak (although, like you, I have learned to do it), let alone sing (that, I will never learn to do. Thank God I have the excuse of having a terrible singing voice)! I'm always so impressed that your daughter can do that at her age.

I hated it in school when we all had to give oral presentations. It was such a complete waste of class time. Not only was I miserable doing it myself, but I was also miserable watching all the others who were up there shaking and miserable. Between worrying about when I was going to be called on and feeling sorry for others, I never paid the least bit of attention to what anyone actually had to say and never learned a thing.

I agree that blogging is a great outlet for us naturally shy souls. And I also have to agree with Maria. The last thing on earth I ever wanted was attention. I still don't want attention, perfectly happy just to observe others, or to ask people all about themselves, so I don't have to talk about me.

What a great post, Danny. (Not that all your posts aren't great.)

[deborah lott]

Watching poor Marty was so painful I almost had to run away screaming. I remember those Coronet Educational Films trying to tell us that our own perceptions were inaccurate. Of course, Mary should be self-conscious; they are all staring at him and deriding him -- it's high school! They don't care what he's saying, they only care that his skin is breaking out or that he's got a slight speech impediment, and maybe a boner at the very moment when the spotlight was on him. I just hope that he stopped dating those foolish girls and realized that he was in love with Jack all along. PS I was so shy in my kindergarten photo that I had my head down on my chest and refused to look at the camera.

[Gordon]

Dear Danny,
Social situations are torture. And, I'm getting worse, not better. I'm on a mild tranquilizer that gets me through everyday activities. And, I down a double dose if I have to go anywhere out of my usual routine. I had a few sessions with a psychiatrist who was worthless. He just encouraged me to be more like him: naturally outgoing. Sheesh. Thanks a lot. I'm happy at home, alone.

I'm amazed at Leah AND at Charlie. They're very lucky, wonderful kids. Congratulations.
--Gordon

[Mary]

I grew up a mixture of being absolutely in-your-face obnoxious but at the same time very anxious in social situation. All of my school years (through college) I was paralyzed with the fear of being called upon in class. Then I would agonize over what I did or did not say. When I reached middle school and discovered alcohol, my anxiety would be quelled for brief periods while I drank away my anxiety. I did have close friends and I was always comfortable with them, but a crowd of my peers always brought my anxiety level through the roof. I don't know if I was actually shy, because I wanted attention. I wanted to be the life of the party. I just couldn't pull it off. I thought I would grow out of my social anxiety but at age 50 (!) I finally started taking an anti-anxiety medication. I am a new person. I am so sorry that I was not diagnosed with anxiety in my 20s--my life would have been so different.

[Kirk]

I've suffered from bouts of shyness all my life. Trust me, it's not a concious decision. I certainly don't think I'm the center of the world when I'm feeling shy, at least not in any positive sense.

[Erin M]

Hi, Marty:) Can I just tell you how flat-out inspiring your blog is, and I must say, especially any time you talk about this particular subject? I've suffered (and I don't use that term lightly) with social anxiety most of my life: it can be completely debilitating. Hearing other people talk about it, other peoples' stories - knowing you're not alone - it's one of the best ways to fight it, I think. Thanks so much for this post:)