I get asked to express myself more. Open up. But what am I supposed to open up about? Do I feel so strongly about what is being said in a conversation that I'm going to die on a hill? Do I actually feel anything about what is being said? If there is an interesting conversation happening in front of me, I don't chime in often. In fact my natural instinct is to watch & listen. I'm in TV mode. I don't talk to my TV, not even during sport.
I've been told I'm hard to understand. Difficult to gauge. Why has this come to pass? I was told not too long ago that when I was a young child I was taken to a psychologist because I barely spoke. His conclusion was that I didn't feel like saying anything, so I didn't. I wonder if there is something on the autism scale for this, but I am unaware whether I am or not - having not been diagnosed. I'm at least not so strongly on one end of the scale that it is especially noticeable.
Perhaps it's because I'm a middle child - that old chestnut. At least I was for a while, until number four came along five years later (and from then I was one of two in the middle). Two seemingly large personalities either side of me was quite a lot for my mother to handle I decided in my little child brain. So I made the choice in my head that I would try not to add to the noise and stress if I could help it. I'm sure there's plenty for a therapist to unpick here.
Do I not express my opinions often because I'm a people pleaser? I think if you talked to people who know me I'm not exactly going out of my way to please them... perhaps some kind of avoidance is more accurate. Confrontation avoidance maybe.
I have opinions, sure I do. I see the world a certain way. I have likes and dislikes. I am a human being after all, despite my crude running away tactic of claiming I'm a robot and moving my arms stiffly to demonstrate the fact.
There is proof from my early childhood of my inclination towards not speaking if it could be helped. This was not always the case in my younger years. Looking back on old family videos, I could be quite loud and obnoxious. A cheeky boy who enjoys being on camera. This is quite far from the image of a quiet boy hidden away in his room playing with Lego & making up stories with his action figures, which was also a true side of me.
Teenage years really do a number on you though. Self consciousness runs wild. As a preteen I would joke and do impressions for my brother's friends. Try and act goofy pretending to be Mr Bean or Austin Powers - I admit, not so highbrow pretending to be Dr. Evil. I do feel like my true character is a goofball, but not many people see that. That side of me soon made way for a boy, quite late in getting that growth spurt, who was fearful to speak in case his voice broke in class or for fear of sounding froggy. I would clear my throat a lot when called upon to try and avoid embarrassing myself. During and after then, others would see more of a quieter, sarcastic, bitchy (in a light ribbing way, I hope) kind of person. That is not to say there isn't a goofball who enjoys making people laugh there too. Unfortunately I seem to have little control of what side comes out. Is there a supply of energy that is limited? Do I feel I can recharge in front of some people and so only show a quieter side, but feel able to be more energetic in front of others?
With one of my friends, I have no idea what his politics are. I kind of admire that, well maybe not 'admire', I quite like it that way. He could be apolitical, I just don't know. I also don't care to know. Maybe some people see me like this too. Obviously not everyone, hence the notion that 'I'm difficult to read'.
There are opinions on here though. On this blog. So there's that. I do like writing on here, whether it's inane stuff or more personal musings. I don't want to be that pistachio in the bag with the smallest sliver of an opening that you give up on.
You can analyse this if you like. I try to keep these posts quite straightforward. It certainly makes it easier to edit (yes, I do edit these...). I don't want to tie myself in knots. Maybe I don't even know what I think. Maybe this is just to write something down, to try to understand or at least start to understand. I don't know exactly why I am who I am. I'm not even sure I know who I am: there are too many contradictions. That may very well be what makes me human after all.
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