I’ve been fuming all week about this blog post. I hate Indecision. Not in other people – I don’t care if you can’t make a decision. I hate Indecision in me. I hate it and its twin, Lack of Confidence. And its first cousin once removed, Shyness. And their inbred offspring, Blush, Sweat and Nausea.
Indecision and its family make my voice shake when I say something out loud, even if there’s only one other person in the room. Especially if there’s more than five. Over twenty, forget it, I’ll probably cry. But even to just one person, at a party or a meeting, even to someone I’ve met before – talking is hard.
I am not the kind of person you adore right away. I can’t make jokes if I’ve only just met you; I will not be able to answer get-to-know-you questions with effective anecdotes. Sometimes people have heard of me or read my writing and then we make real-life introductions and I spot that flicker of disappointment on their faces. It’s okay. I come across a certain way on the screen. I’m warm, occasionally bubbly, confident – Real Me is quite a bit more standoffish. Real Me isn’t sure you’ll like her so she tries to act indifferent just in case. Real Me is still, apparently, struggling through the social circles of middle school.
This is part of the reason I’ll never get divorced. Who would I feel comfortable with ever again? Who would hang out alone by the beer coolers and pretend to waltz with me if not M?
But regardless of the security of my man, gaining Decision and Confidence is a major goal, has been for a while. It’s up there with publish a book, bake a wedding cake just for fun, and master Minuet in G. It’s a long process. It requires quite a bit self admonishment, which in turn requires self discipline to keep from stepping over the line into self hatred. It requires deep breathing and yoga. It requires wine, and sometimes a cookie. Mostly it requires the realization that we all have two choices: give up and never leave your house which someday you will lose because you can’t pay for it because you never leave your house, or cowboy up, cupcake, and deal. Life is hard for the shy introvert, but there’s no excuse for moving backward.
Cookie, please.
Let us go then, you and I 
Just for the record, I adore Real Me. I think she’s swell. Maybe we’ll have to set aside some time to bake that wedding cake just for fun. One with several tiers, no tears allowed. Even if it doesn’t look quite right, I bet it will still taste great.
And I adore Real You! Since we didn’t know each other at either of our weddings, we should certainly make a wedding cake together. Something with chocolate and raspberries? Mmmmmm…
Now listen up, You! I absolutely adored you and knew you were perfect for M the very first time I laid eyes on you running across our front yard to meet us. So there!
Gwen! I don’t think I uttered a word during that first visit! I was too intimidated by how smart and nice and welcoming you all were! But, yes, M and I were perfect for each other…
COOKIE!!!!
oh em gee, are you my twin? you just wrote what I think inside all the time. all. the. time.
I loved you the first time I met you. I especially identified with the second paragraph.
Andi, if I remember correctly I liked you before I met you but I was to shy to figure out how to meet you! Thank goodness for Wind in the Willows! It changed my world . . . .
I think there is a part of all of us that is still insecurely wandering around PCIS.