Always in the Kitchen at Parties: Simple Tools for Instant Confidence - Leil Lowndes

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“ My mother and I were very close, maybe because my father died when I was two and I am an only child. I don’t know when it began, but I know by the time I got to primary school I realized that my mother was much more protective of me than the other kids’ mothers. I wasn’t even allowed to cross the street alone to play with the other kids. It didn’t bother me that much because she would take me to the movies a lot and we’d go away together on every holiday. I liked that because I didn’t have to be around other kids who would tease me. I think they thought I was a snob because I didn’t play with them.

       I was so shy in secondary school, especially around boys, that my mother put me in a small private tutoring school where we had only five or six people to a class. I’m 34 now and still live with my mother. I’ve hardly ever dated because I get so nervous around men that, the few times I have been asked out, I’ve said no. I realize I have to change but it’s hard to break old patterns and thought habits.”

       SHANNON – LIMERICK, IRELAND

      Most of us don’t blame anybody. We’re too busy trying to get over shyness. But there are some Shys who get angry and blame others for their condition. For them, I quote a great actress and, I’ve now discovered, a great philosopher, who fought a lifelong battle with shyness:

       “ We are taught you must blame your father, your sisters, your brothers, the school, the teachers – you can blame anyone, but never blame yourself. It’s never your fault. But it’s always your fault, because if you want to change, you’re the one who has got to change. It’s as simple as that, isn’t it?”

       KATHARINE HEPBURN

      Yes, Katharine, it is as simple as that. But getting over shyness isn’t. You can’t just snap your fingers and instantly sound smart, suave, scintillating and not shy. It’s like learning to ski. You need to practise each move before you can make all the right ones without having to give them a second thought.

section III

      Using the ‘S’ Word

      It happens to all of us. Some well-meaning friend or family member blithely suggests, ‘Well, why don’t you just tell people you’re shy? Then you’ll feel more comfortable with them.’

      So you consider it. You run and run a couple of scenarios through your mind:

       If I tell them, what do I expect them to say? ‘Oh you poor dear, you’re shy? I understand what an awful feeling that must be. Well, I certainly want to become your friend and help you to get over it.’

      Don’t think so.

       If I share my secret with a potential romantic partner, will he or she say, ‘Oh, that’s wonderful. I find shy people sooo sexy. Let’s go out on a date and you can tell me all about it.’

      Not likely.

      So, for the moment, you decide not to tell.

      Wise choice! I know from experience you will hear, ‘Oh, not you! You’ve got to be kidding. You’re not shy. I mean you’re so nice, so friendly,’ yada yada yada.

      Let me interject an important note here. If, by chance, you are working with a therapist who encourages you to reveal your shyness, follow that counsel. Whatever your counsellor advises overrides any suggestion in this book. Each Shy is different and treatments vary.

       “ I am teaching my way through graduate school. And on the surface I guess I don’t seem shy but my timidity is so painful that in order to not have to speak to familiar faces I will walk around, act occupied or just sit and listen (never putting in my opinion) to a conversation. Sometimes I tell people I’m shy and they just laugh. They don’t believe me. They don’t know how much I’m suffering inside.”

       ANGELA – HOPE, ARKANSAS

      In high school, my mother was anxious about my sagging self-esteem and lack of friends. One Sunday evening after dinner, Mama suggested we talk about my shyness.

      ‘Some other time, Mama.’

      ‘Now!’ Mama suggested I tell the girls I was shy.

      ‘What, tell them?’ That was like telling a boxer to lean right into the punch. The funny thing is, in a boxing match that works. But telling people I was shy would have had me down for the count.

      ‘Promise me you will Leilie?’

      ‘Mama, I can’t.’ She looked disappointed. ‘I promise, Mama.’

      That night I lay awake mopping tears out of my ears, and planning when to divulge my disgraceful secret. That time came much too soon. PE was just before lunch. Now or never. I entered the changing rooms early on what I now think of as D-Day (for ‘Divulge Day’). Miss Popularity herself was already there. While getting into our shorts and T-shirts, Penelope started playing her favourite sport, small-talk, my weakest game.

      The ‘Big Confession’

      ‘Well, Leilie, did you enjoy the weekend?’

      My mind went into immediate selfconscious overdrive. Should I tell her the truth, that I just hung around the house all by myself? Or should I fake an upbeat, ‘Oh I had a fabulous time.’ No, that’s not a good strategy because she might counter with asking me what I did.

      By now the unspoken time-limit for a response, any response, was up. I returned her serve with an unskilled, ‘Uh, yeah.’

      Sure enough, then came the grand slam. ‘What did you do?’ Now I faced sure defeat. It was a choice of fibbing or ‘fessing up’ as Mama said. Courageously, I chose the later.

      I looked down at my feet and blurted out, ‘I’m shy.’ Penelope seemed surprised and volleyed back the expected: ‘What? Not you. You’re not shy. You’re kidding! I mean, you have no trouble talking to me … Uh, well, see you later,’ she said, scurrying off to class.

      I wondered if I’d done the right thing.

      I got my answer 24 hours later almost to the minute. The girls were opening their lockers and chatting like magpies when I arrived. ‘Hi Leilie,’ one shouted across the locker room. ‘I hear you’re shy. Is that true?’

      Her comment was a cannonball in my stomach. As I was reeling from that one, another blasted me, ‘What have you got to be shy about?’

      Babbling about being nauseous, I dashed out of the locker room, up the stairs, and into an empty classroom. I missed lunch that day but I didn’t care. I couldn’t have eaten it anyway.

      In retrospect, I realize that the locker room gang didn’t intend to be cruel. In fact, they were probably trying to make me feel at ease. But like most people they were unskilled at dealing with someone shy. Besides, strangers and slight acquaintances don’t care that you’re shy.

       Why Tell Strangers?

      Unless you’ve been advised otherwise by a responsible

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