It was a disappointing weekend.
I had high hopes of sitting beatificially in one of the church pews, one leg crossed over the other, smiling with warm and accepting (and lovely) radiance at all young men who happened to glance my way, who would, naturally, then swerve in for a closer look.
And they would not be displeased.
Alas. Why can life not follow these little scripts we lay out for ourselves?
Firstly, I felt cross on Sunday, mostly because I had banged my knee pretty darn hard on the steps leading up from the subway station on Saturday. By Sunday morning, it was all bruised and swollen and crossing it didn't really help.
Also, I was just not feeling perky. In fact, I was feeling anti-perky. If perky and I had met (which we didn't, thank goodness) we would have created between ourselves an explosion that would have demolished the greater portion of the church building and any surrounding structures within a radius of roughly 200 miles.
Also, I was not a hit in Sunday school. I was, in fact, a remarkably irritating individual, making inane comments at inappropriate moments. Or, perhaps not that bad. Maybe just making inane comments. Which those around me scorned. (I could tell.) No, not really. But we did role-playing, which...was okay, I guess, but really--not one of my favorite activities.
And then, during sacrament meeting, I just sat there, looking at people, feeling vaguely alone and kind of sorry for myself.
Choir practice was a little better: I got to see that one guy again, and I could swear the choir director smiled at me, but then it was over. And I was back in my apartment, secluding myself and watching DVDs alone on my bed.
I've kind of realized that I'm not a sparkly person; I'm not one of those people who immediately grab the attention of everyone in the room. Which is really starting to get old. Because I've noticed that the girls who guys tend to talk to are the ones who are sparkly, who hold the awareness of others like threads in their hands, tugging and pulling eyes to them no matter where they are in the room.
Which means that in order to get attention, I need to be like that.
Which is not really part of my nature. Really.
So do I try to change myself for the sake of meeting people? Or do I sit back in the corners of social interaction and hope that, somehow, the right person will notice me sitting there and somehow be interested?
How the heck do introverts meet their soulmates anyway? Can someone please just explain this to me?
I'll sit and listen. Promise. I'm kind of good at that.
3 comments:
I'm an introvert. In fact, I'm surprised I actually got married -- boys always kinda freaked me out. And because of that, I couldn't ever be sparkly around them. It bugged me that that wasn't a part of my personality, so of course, because it bugged me, I tried being sparkly in just small, I-can-handle-this doses. And then I met another introvert who was also exerting just-enough doses of sparkly. Maybe that's the key. Maybe opposites don't attract, or at least not entirely. So basically, my advice would be to not change yourself, just work on yourself. Improve yourself in the areas you feel need improvement, but only do so in manageable doses. Be sparkly, but only be sparkly enough so as to still recognize yourself.
My dear, Do you recall watching the DVD of "Charlotte's Web?" I do not remember if we watched it together or not. My very favorite part of the whole movie, which in fact, I replayed several times because it was so beautiful, was the scene of Charlotte spinning the first of her webs to save Wilbur. It was a ballet, and the animated photography and the music were perfect. Charlotte was a magnificent being, doing with grace and energy and hope and beauty and confidence, the very thing she was created to do. No one, watching that scene could possibly think of her as just a common grayish brown barn spider. The Lord made some of His daughters to be flamingos who stand pink and poised, with a long slender leg tucked under their bright feathers. And some he made cheetahs, or gazelles, who run with light steps and capture the gaze of those who see them, sinewy and fleeting, flashing across the savanna. And some of His daughters He wisely made to be quiet, beautiful spinners of webs, who gladly, in a remote corner, create, and then wait. All His creations are, of a truth, beautiful, and made for a wise purpose. Even you. Even me.
Thank you. These are both things I needed to hear.
Er. Read, I mean.
So thanks.
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