| Biographical Non-Fiction posted March 5, 2024 |
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I always felt more at ease with one friend at a time.
Not an Extrovert
by BethShelby
I’ve never been particularly fond of group gatherings. In a large crowd, my more introverted side takes center stage. Instead of contributing to whatever conversation happens to be in progress, I’m more likely to sit on the sidelines and listen rather than speak out.
By the time I was in the tenth grade in high school, during the lunch break between classes, the majority of the girls in our grade congregated on the steps in front of the building. The boys used their time to have a quick ball game, depending on what kind of ball was in season.
I chose not to sit with the girls on the steps. There were others like me who related best with only one or two others at a time. I could always find someone who wanted to make a quick trip into town or just walk around campus talking about whatever we found of interest. No one in our class was ever rude to me. There wasn’t a bully among my class members, and I never thought of the group on the steps as the popular kids. To me they just seemed bored, and I didn’t feel a common bond with them.
At the time, I was riding the school bus home in the afternoon. My house was nearest to the school, so I was always the first to exit the bus. One afternoon, I was surprised to see most of the girls from the steps pile onto my bus. They were chatting among themselves and paid no attention to me, so I ignored them as well. I assumed they were going home with Joyce Ann, a member of their group, who always rode my bus to her home.
I felt a rush of irritation, assuming that apparently there was something going on at her house, and they hadn’t bothered to even ask if I might like to go. 'They see me as some sort of a misfit, I thought. Since I don’t hang around with them at noon, they think they can ignore me.'
The more I thought about it, the more discontented I became. I’d known most of them since first grade. 'Just because we had little in common, that was no reason to treat me as if I was scum. I made higher grades than most of them. I was given leads in school plays and the teachers considered me the school artist. So what if a lot of them were dating already. That didn’t make me a nobody.' It was the first time I’d ever felt truly excluded, and it wasn’t a good feeling.
Imagine my surprise when the school bus stopped to let me out, and everyone of them exited the bus behind me. Totally confused I stared at them, wondering if somehow I had suddenly lost my mind.
They were laughing at my confusion. ”Surprise!,” Peggy said. “It is your birthday, isn’t it?”
I'd not mentioned my birthday to a soul at school, and all I’d expected was that probably my mom had baked a cake and my parents had a gift for me. It had never occurred to me that Mom would have gotten in touch with someone to help her plan a surprise party for me.
I can’t say I was pleased. I tended to be like my dad, and I hated surprises. Now, I had to exert myself and work on putting on a big smile and pretend to be thrilled. I felt like a jerk for all the bad thoughts I had about each of them. I could act, so act I did. After all, I’d gotten the leads in a few school plays.
Once we all went inside, I found our house decorated with balloons and streamers. There was a cake, party food, punch and party hats for everyone. The girls all pulled gifts from their backpacks. The biggest surprise was a portable typewriter from my parents. I forced myself to make small talk along with the rest of them. We listened to music and played party games.
All of the girls treated me like the queen for the day, and I realized none of them thought of me as a loser. I was just another of their classmates. Maybe they’d never noticed I wasn’t joining them on the steps. Like most teenagers they had their own concerns and likely hadn’t given much thought to why I found other things to do at lunch time.
When the party was over and all the girls went home, I thanked Mom for the party and the gift, but I also had a few other words to say.
“Mom, please don’t ever do that to me again. Maybe, you haven’t noticed, but I’m not like you. I’m not an extrovert, and I don’t like surprises. I find it very awkward to be around a lot of people.”
My mom never took anything at face value, and she had to argue with me. She was convinced she knew me better than I knew myself. But thankfully, it was the last surprise party she ever gave me.
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I’ve never been particularly fond of group gatherings. In a large crowd, my more introverted side takes center stage. Instead of contributing to whatever conversation happens to be in progress, I’m more likely to sit on the sidelines and listen rather than speak out.
By the time I was in the tenth grade in high school, during the lunch break between classes, the majority of the girls in our grade congregated on the steps in front of the building. The boys used their time to have a quick ball game, depending on what kind of ball was in season.
I chose not to sit with the girls on the steps. There were others like me who related best with only one or two others at a time. I could always find someone who wanted to make a quick trip into town or just walk around campus talking about whatever we found of interest. No one in our class was ever rude to me. There wasn’t a bully among my class members, and I never thought of the group on the steps as the popular kids. To me they just seemed bored, and I didn’t feel a common bond with them.
At the time, I was riding the school bus home in the afternoon. My house was nearest to the school, so I was always the first to exit the bus. One afternoon, I was surprised to see most of the girls from the steps pile onto my bus. They were chatting among themselves and paid no attention to me, so I ignored them as well. I assumed they were going home with Joyce Ann, a member of their group, who always rode my bus to her home.
I felt a rush of irritation, assuming that apparently there was something going on at her house, and they hadn’t bothered to even ask if I might like to go. 'They see me as some sort of a misfit, I thought. Since I don’t hang around with them at noon, they think they can ignore me.'
The more I thought about it, the more discontented I became. I’d known most of them since first grade. 'Just because we had little in common, that was no reason to treat me as if I was scum. I made higher grades than most of them. I was given leads in school plays and the teachers considered me the school artist. So what if a lot of them were dating already. That didn’t make me a nobody.' It was the first time I’d ever felt truly excluded, and it wasn’t a good feeling.
Imagine my surprise when the school bus stopped to let me out, and everyone of them exited the bus behind me. Totally confused I stared at them, wondering if somehow I had suddenly lost my mind.
They were laughing at my confusion. ”Surprise!,” Peggy said. “It is your birthday, isn’t it?”
I'd not mentioned my birthday to a soul at school, and all I’d expected was that probably my mom had baked a cake and my parents had a gift for me. It had never occurred to me that Mom would have gotten in touch with someone to help her plan a surprise party for me.
I can’t say I was pleased. I tended to be like my dad, and I hated surprises. Now, I had to exert myself and work on putting on a big smile and pretend to be thrilled. I felt like a jerk for all the bad thoughts I had about each of them. I could act, so act I did. After all, I’d gotten the leads in a few school plays.
Once we all went inside, I found our house decorated with balloons and streamers. There was a cake, party food, punch and party hats for everyone. The girls all pulled gifts from their backpacks. The biggest surprise was a portable typewriter from my parents. I forced myself to make small talk along with the rest of them. We listened to music and played party games.
All of the girls treated me like the queen for the day, and I realized none of them thought of me as a loser. I was just another of their classmates. Maybe they’d never noticed I wasn’t joining them on the steps. Like most teenagers they had their own concerns and likely hadn’t given much thought to why I found other things to do at lunch time.
When the party was over and all the girls went home, I thanked Mom for the party and the gift, but I also had a few other words to say.
“Mom, please don’t ever do that to me again. Maybe, you haven’t noticed, but I’m not like you. I’m not an extrovert, and I don’t like surprises. I find it very awkward to be around a lot of people.”
My mom never took anything at face value, and she had to argue with me. She was convinced she knew me better than I knew myself. But thankfully, it was the last surprise party she ever gave me.
 Recognized |
#23 March 2024 |
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