Finding Ninee » Sharing our parenting and special needs stories with heart and humor.

Being Shy is Feeling Embarrassed to be Yourself

What it Feels Like to be Shy

You want the room to swallow you. You’re not good enough, smart enough, pretty enough. You’re not enough.

Shy is hiding your shaking hands. Being shy is feeling each atom of blood rush though pounding ears. It’s wishing somebody would see you and say “hi” while simultaneously wishing you were invisible.

Being shy is feeling embarrassed to be yourself.

“Just take me home with you,” I pled. I couldn’t believe my parents were leaving me with people I’d just met.

“You’ll have fun, I promise,” one of them said. “Wrong!” I thought. In the moment, all I wanted was the old wood floor of the main camp cabin to open and suck me into a vortex that’d plop me safely on my bedroom carpet, leaned against my bed, a book in my hands. Book worlds were adventure enough for me.

Bawling.
Hiding.
Panic.

“Don’t leave!” They left. A few days later, I never wanted to go back home. I think I was eight years old.

Being Shy is Feeling Embarrassed to be Yourself

***

He hid under my shirt. Shy. Embarrassed to be him? He didn’t have the words but I’m sure he wanted the floor to suck him into the vortex of his carpeted bedroom where toy trucks and ninees waited. Worlds of wonder and adventure, more easily navigated than school.

We went back, after I emailed the school. We toured alone the second time. There’d be no hiding behind bookshelves for my kid, dangit. Going back was good. He saw his teacher, one-on-one. Less-shy. Fine, even.

Later, thriving.

preschool graduation

***

I was four or five, and sat happily in the hairdresser’s chair. She foot-peddled me up so I could see myself in the mirror. My wispy hair was down to my waist. “Just a trim,” I said. Smiled, even. I was a big girl.

She cut it off. All of it. Guess hairdressers listen to moms more than they listen to babies because I left with a pixie cut.

Shame. Embarrassment.

I wore a hat to preschool Montessori for weeks. One of my teachers pulled it off, and I hid behind a bookcase.

I still remember that feeling perfectly. My cheeks are red as I type. Why did I care so much about my hair? But I did. I cared a lot.

Shy. I felt embarrassed to be me.

The Ugly Pixie Cut. It’d Grown Out Some Here!

***

“School sucks,” he says. Says again.

“School sucks!” louder this time, in case I misunderstood the first two or four hundred. We have three more blocks for me to explain, at least today.

“I’m shy, too…” I say.

After a few haircuts even, Oct. 2017

“How?” he asks, and I tell him about the time I couldn’t believe my parents left me with strangers for summer camp. For a week. That I ended up loving it after a couple of days of being too shy to talk to adults.

I tell him about how I wore a hat to preschool for at least three weeks when my mom told the hairdresser to cut my hair to a pixie cut and how I was embarrassed to be me. I told him I wish I’d have faked it and pretended to not be shy.

“Oh,” he says. “I remember that story. That’s why you let me grow my hair as long as I wanted.”

“That’s right!” I say, happy about having passed this life lesson along to my son.

“It got bushy though,” he says. “That’s why I wanted to get a short-boy haircut and how do you fake not being shy?”

“I’ll tell you on the way home.”

Getting Over Being Shy

You tell yourself being shy is stupid. All these people in the room are just people. People are dumb, awkward, and insecure.

Just like you.

“You’re being dramatic!” you tell yourself. It’s like you’re too self-important. None of these people care what you think. They’re not judging your backfat (and if they are? EFFF them!).

They’re thinking about their own droopy postures and mismatched earrings.

Who truly thinks what we say or do is sooooo important to other people? After all, they’re just living life, feeling insecure, and going about their business. I think it was this realization that helped me come out of my shell.

I try to teach Tucker the same, although it’s hard when you have sensory issues (which I believe extend to all areas – including being shy).

It’s back to school time and we’re working on not being shy. On remembering that all of us are mostly the same on the inside.

We’ll get there. I’m not too shy or insecure to believe that.

***

This has been a Finish the Sentence Friday post, hosted by yours truly and my wonderful co-host Kenya Johnson of Sporadically Yours. This week’s prompt is “It’s back to school time and…”

 Loading InLinkz ...


  • Emily - I had a similar conversation the other day with one of my boys (middle dude) about how I was shy when I was younger, but the older I got, the less shy I became. I explained that I thought it had to do with not caring as much what people thought of me and now I don’t think of myself as shy at all…but it took a long time for me to not think of myself that way. Anyway, back to school time is always hard for all kinds of reasons, including feeling shy and tentative — whether you’re new to a school (like Tucker) or not…September 6, 2018 – 8:15 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - I care SO MUCH LESS about what people think of me now than I used to. I wish our kids could hear and absorb that better but I’m sure my parents said the same to me when I was young and so painfully shy. Back to school is so hard. On all of us. Here’s hoping it’s a great year for all your dudes and for my dude, too! xoSeptember 7, 2018 – 8:37 pmReplyCancel

  • Allison Smith - It’s always so hard to start at a new school. Poor thing. What grade? Can you ask the teacher to help facilitate? Also – he looks so much like you. I’m sorry about the haircut – but damn, what a cute dress you had on!September 6, 2018 – 9:47 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - He’s in fourth grade now. And yeah, I’ve spoken to the teacher, and the support person. They’re re-evaluating him (GRRRRR), so we’re going to have a meeting in a few weeks. Sigh. Aw to looking like me – he’s better looking of course. 🙂
      LOL to the cute dress! I thought so too when looking at the old pic – that I’d wear something like that now if it looked okay!September 7, 2018 – 8:38 pmReplyCancel

  • Lizzi - I hope he gets there soon, and feels confident xxSeptember 7, 2018 – 3:30 amReplyCancel

  • Kenya G. Johnson - I’ve been in Tucker’s shoes three times. Each time I became more shy. Going into high school was the worst. I hope he finds the one friend soon that makes it all better. I wasn’t always shy but there is something about starting over again that makes you an introvert. I don’t think I was either one before my first school move. Just like you with the hair, I hoped and prayed that by the time I had children that we wouldn’t have to move and they could go to the stay in the same school district for all the grade school years. Unfortunately living in a military town, besties move away too which is equally heart breaking. That pounding in the ears, man I haven’t experienced that in a long long long time. That’s the worst.September 7, 2018 – 4:13 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Three? That’s hard. I can see why you became more shy each time… high school would be hard! Robert’s said he thinks we can stay here for five years but I’ve said that I’d rather move back for Junior High than High School because that’s hard… or stay here until he graduates. We’ll see.
      And yeah, besties moving away is totally heart breaking too…
      UGH to the pounding in the ears. It really is the worst. Thanks for getting it!September 7, 2018 – 8:40 pmReplyCancel

  • Debi Lewis - “Fake it til you make it” — this advice comes up constantly in conversation with my younger daughter. Another option, though, is to accept one’s own feelings of being quiet. Some days we want to say hi to everyone and chat it up. Some days, we just feel like observing. Some other days, we want to arrive just before the event and slink in to the back and hide behind our hair. All those versions of us are ok!September 7, 2018 – 9:01 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Actually I like accepting our feelings of being quiet better than “fake it til you make it” but it’s easier somehow later on I think to be able to fake it, if that makes sense. But you’re right – each version of ourselves is ok and I so hope Tucker gets that sooner than I did!September 7, 2018 – 8:42 pmReplyCancel

  • Kristi - Great definition! Tucker is one lucky boy to have you as a mom to help guide him through the challenges of life.September 7, 2018 – 11:00 amReplyCancel

  • Pat B - It would seem at times that so many bloggers experienced times of shyness. I wonder if that is a common trait of writers.

    I learned much later on that many of the people who I never considered shy when they were in school, actually were, but had a way of covering that trait up.

    I wonder if your teacher felt badly about pulling your hat off after seeing you go hide from embarrassment?September 7, 2018 – 6:07 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - You know, I think maybe it is a common trait of writers to be shy. I feel like so many of us are… maybe we write to have a way of saying what we’d be too shy to say outloud?? Hm. I wonder if she felt badly for pulling off my hat, too. I hope she did, at least a little – enough to not do something similar to other kids as the years went by!September 7, 2018 – 8:50 pmReplyCancel

  • Christine Carter - Oh yes, this spoke to my heart and I hope that sweet Tucker grows more comfortable as the school days continue on. I loved how you talked to him and I LOVE the beautiful relationship you have with him.

    When my kids are worried about what others think about them, I always tell them they aren’t that important. LOL. But it’s so true. Just like you said, people are too worried about themselves to notice much about anyone else. I love the self-talk you shared- I say those things to myself all the time!September 11, 2018 – 6:42 amReplyCancel

Your email is never published or shared. Required fields are marked *

*

*

N e v e r   m i s s   a   n e w   p o s t !