Antisocial Me

I've come to the conclusion that I am antisocial.  This may come as a surprise to my friends and acquaintances who have seen the "social" side of me.  As my kids get older and I come into contact with more and more people, I find myself avoiding situations where I have to make a lot of small talk.  I feel guilty sometimes because I come from a fairly social background.  My dad was always chatting strangers up wherever he went and my mom is happiest when she has a full social calendar.  Sometimes I feel like I have to force myself to have conversations with people and when it's over with I'm exhausted.  Some gene must have skipped me.

Maybe antisocial is the wrong word.  Perhaps a better word to describe me is introverted.  I think I do a fairly good job of balancing my introverted self with my social self but it's a lot of work.  Sometimes I'm too tired to be the outgoing me and so I withdraw into myself and probably seem unapproachable and serious.  I often wonder how others perceive me.  I wish I could see myself through their eyes.  I love being by myself and not talking to anyone.  It's very relaxing.

Today I was surrounded by people and by the time I got home I was completely wiped out.  Today was one of those days when I just didn't even try and I went out of my way not to have to interact with people.  That sounds terrible but it feels so good to write it down.  If I avoided you today or did not try to engage in conversation with you, please don't feel offended.  That was just Antisocial Me.

I started the day by taking Jack to Ukrainian school.  Instead of walking him in I dropped him off so that I wouldn't have to make small talk in Ukrainian with parents in the cafeteria.  Having to speak Ukrainian adds another dimension of stress since I always feel like my grammar is completely wrong. Then I spent the next hour and a half in Starbucks finishing up some paperwork and not talking to anyone, although I almost lost it when a toddler seated right behind me had a huge tantrum and her dad just SAT there and did nothing about it.  But that's a blog post for another day.

Our next stop was Ella's first outdoor soccer game of the season.  This was blissfully relaxing because I was camped out on the sidelines with my family and although I smiled and waved at a few familiar looking parents I did not actually have to engage in any significant small talk.  I just sat and watched my little girl chase the soccer ball around the field and basked in the sunshine.

Later in the afternoon I went to Ella's indoor soccer game while John and Jack went to baseball.  I saw that many of the parents were crammed into the team area so I elected to stay outside the glassed-in soccer field and watch from the sidelines.  I ended up on a bench behind one of the goals between two mothers from the opposing team, one of whom carried on a steady stream of incessant cheering for each and every girl on her team in a high-pitched voice.  "Go Kennedy!  Good kick, Cheyenne! Get it, Zoe, get it! That's right, Abby, you can do it!"  This went on and on and on.  I started feeling like the anti-soccer mom because the more she cheered the less inclined I was to cheer, so I just sat there like a lump. It dawned on me that I don't even know the names of half the girls on our team. The few times I managed to call out "Go Ella!" during those rare moments that my kid actually got her foot on the ball I ended up feeling lame next to Miss Cheerleader. I finally got up and moved over to an empty area to the left of the goal and allowed myself to watch and silently giggle every time I saw Ella "skip" to her assigned spot in between plays.  Yes, she was skipping and looked very happy doing it.  That's my girl. I should have yelled out "Nice skipping, Ella! You go, girl!" I wonder what over-the-top soccer mom would have thought about that.

By the time Ella and I made it to the last hour of Jack's baseball scrimmage, I was so far into my antisocial, introverted self that I just plopped my chair down without bothering to see who else was around.  I felt bad at the end of the game because I realized that a nice mom who I've become pretty good friends with had been sitting about thirty feet away from me the whole time.  Neither of use realized the other was there so I didn't feel too bad, but still.  Sometimes I have to snap myself out of the antisocial rut that I so easily burrow into if I'm not careful.

I'm not painting a very good picture of myself here, am I?  I think I'm only antisocial if I'm not comfortable.  If I'm not in my element I immediately revert to that shy little girl I once was long ago.  Ella reminds me of myself in that she can also draw herself into a quiet little shell and not say a word, even though I know she is a dynamic and engaging child.  She and I are like turtles.  We pull our heads in if we don't feel safe.

I'm an introvert, what can I say? I think I'll just embrace it and recognize it as part of who I am.