I was going to go scour the archives of my family’s kitchen computer to find a picture of 13-year-old me for the header of this, then I decided I’d much rather not embarrass myself. Not only was 13-year-old me a mental mess but a physical mess as well. I’m sure that you can relate.
I remember all too vividly the skinny jeans day in and day out, the Uggs and the awful graphic t-shirts under flannel shirts. I remember less clearly keeping a diary complaining about the injustices of the power systems in place be it my parents or my teachers at school because I was much too afraid to actually face them.
However, most of all I remember being shy. Scared. I was always constantly anxious and it drove me nearly insane all of the things I couldn’t do because I might start crying if I did. Whenever I look back now at my childhood I don’t see the memories as well as I would like. Instead, I see with perfect clarity all the opportunities that were missed because of my anxiety and how different my life would have been if I were just a little more like everyone else.
Everyone has thought about the first time they would eventually get to use a time machine. Some people want to go way into the future, see how society turned up. Others would maybe go visit lost loved ones. I, immediately, would go back to my 13-year-old self’s bedroom and shout for at least thirty minutes. That would be the dream.
However, I know all too well that I could never do that because I’m still her. I’m still a shy kid with crushing anxiety hanging over my head. It’s gotten a lot easier to hide over the years and people have almost stopped describing me as shy to other people before I have the chance to meet them and that’s the biggest victory anyone could ask for. I know I wouldn’t change a thing because I look around and see all the goodness that has come with those years of development from then to now, and I wouldn’t trade the person I am today for anything.
This is not to say that I do not regret an entire mile-long list of things from my past, but I can’t help but admit that I wouldn’t have turned out exactly like this if it weren’t for the years of being a wallflower and only coasting along the social scene to make it through. It’s not fun being a wallflower; if you’ve seen the movie then you’re probably well aware of that. However, if it’s what you need to be to get to where you’re going, I wouldn’t change a thing.
For all you extraverted folk reading this, for those of you with shy friends, don’t describe them to other people as "shy." Say something more dignified for Pete’s sake, like "reserved" or something; "stoic." I promise, they will appreciate it.
