Instagram: @meghans.teen.life
Hello friends! Today, I wanted to share something with you that has been weighing very heavily on me lately: my experience as “the shy girl.” Trust me, I know from my writing that I don’t give off that vibe, but in real life social situations I don’t talk. I’m that person that confuses and shocks people when I talk; no one’s expecting it. I am going to be sharing my experience in letter form, and I hope you enjoy or at least get a better perspective on my (and other’s) situation. Before we get started, please note that I use the term “shy” loosely. I’m sure that there are other reasons for my tendency to become mute in social situations, but because I have never been properly diagnosed I am going to stick with “shy.” — Dear world, I want you to put yourself in a classroom. Look around at your classmates, see their faces and let your memories of them rush in. At one point, you will come to a face that you know, but has nothing behind it. Who are they? You know them, but not who they are. Think about this person. What are some characteristics that come to mind? Weird? Sweet? Quiet? Stuck up? Take a moment and reflect on why and how you formed these opinions. Now look back into their eyes; they are blank, for the words you filled them with are gone. I am that person, I am the girl that everyone sees as fragile, odd, and the oddly hurtful “sweet.” Despite giving you nothing, but a few timid glances and smiles, they have written words next to my name. They copy and paste these words onto others as well, just trying to make sense of what they they can’t figure out. People understandably fill in the blanks without context. I am simply a madlibs to them. When teachers, for example, give out compliments or awards, I’d rather they’d skip me. I don’t mind the attention, but I know everything they say is forced and that they use the standard “shy girl” speech: “She’s so insightful. I just know that she has so many wonderful ideas. She keeps to herself, but she is a pleasure.” Before I go any further I want to say that I am not here to place blame, but to share my story. I too judge, and don’t blame those who do, but I am frustrated with being randomly shoved into boxes. My mind and body are fighting. I know how everyone sees me and I want to give them the words to describe me, but can’t. Therefore, my words are their words; I feel helpless. My body surrenders to my mind, allowing me to go numb and showing them what they expect to see. I’m like a ghost. I’m here, yet no one sees me, I’m trapped in a body that’s working against me. In a society that tells girls that “their voice is important, but no one wants to hear it.” I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you got stuck with me as a partner. I want to help you with the project, and I’m not lazy, but I’m slowly shutting down. I’m sorry. Another part of me accepts this and is caught in a constant state of lies. “I don’t care.” “Participation is stupid.” “I don’t what to talk to them.” The longer I stay quiet, the more I believe these lies. I try to tell myself that I’m putting others before myself. I’m making them look better, I’m giving them more space or time. Self sabotage kicks in, and I willingly allow it to. I am the token shy girl. You may see me as sweet or weird, and I can’t blame you, but I know I am so much more. I am kind, persistent, and in a constant war with myself. So, when you try to strike up a conversation with me, but in return receive smiles and giggles mixed with short mumbled responses, please know that I appreciate you. I don’t mean to blow you off, and even though it’s sad and awkward, I’m trying my best. Best wishes, Meghan
