Humans are social animals, so they say.<\/p>\n
I am a very social animal, I think. I like having lots of people around me. That’s one of the things I like about California. There are simply more people to be around.<\/p>\n
Being a teenager is a time when you are especially concerned with the social aspects of life. Boy, I sure was. I was like a throbbing antenna, aware of every shift in social winds.<\/p>\n
When I was forced against my will to be homeschooled, I knew my social status would plummet and never recover. My parents, excited about how great teaching me at home would be, didn’t believe me. “You’ll be fine!” Mom said.<\/p>\n
Thus began my four years of jockeying for a position in the tight cliquey circle of teenagers from the small private school I had left. Any position. I had to make sure not to lag too far behind when the group was lining up to file into rows of chairs at events or in church. I felt humliation and self-loathing as I pushed my way forward in the line so that I did not get stuck on the end of the row. You could not hear anything or be included when you were on the end.<\/p>\n
Teenagers can smell self-loathing like wolves smell fear. My insecure position did not go unnoticed.<\/p>\n
Since my days were long and empty, the catty comments and cold-shouldering doled out by my “friends” were constantly on my mind. Which were intentional? What did they really think of me? How could I win back favor and be respected?<\/p>\n
Once, after a few years of this wore on, an occasion arose. We were going in to a church event. I say “we”; in reality, my group of friends were already lined up with a few new people to make things lively. For some reason, I had been left behind the group. I stood at the door of the auditorium and looked at the girls lined up in the pew. They were already sitting down. I was filled with shame at the thought of squeezing in, unwanted, to be tagged on at the end. I would inevitably spend the time looking at the back of some more fashionable shirt as its wearer turned away from me to talk with the rest of group.<\/p>\n
I hated feeling this way. I wanted nothing more than to be included. But experience had taught me that I could only expect humiliation.<\/p>\n
Suddenly, I was mad! Those girls had no right to treat me this way. I might not be able to be included in the conversation, but as least I could be excluded with dignity:<\/p>\n
I COULD SIT ALONE.<\/p>\n
The idea was as revolutionary as the apple falling on Newton’s head. Fear and excitement shot through me–my heart was pounding. Did I really dare to be alone? If I sat alone, would the girls then be so relieved to be rid of me that they would forever more exclude me?<\/p>\n
But the idea gave me so much more self-respect. I did not have to walk in and take the blows to my feelings. NO! I could be alone.<\/p>\n
I marched down the aisle, past the group and sat alone near the front. I felt my back prickle, sure that they were all staring at me. I stayed for the service. I watched everything, finally able to notice what was going on. Once the absorbing distraction of my friends was gone, I realized that a lot of other things were happening.<\/p>\n
I felt somewhat exposed, as if I were naked. Like a hermit crab rushing from one discarded shell to a new larger home. At the end of the service, I felt renewed. I learned that there was the option of being alone.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Humans are social animals, so they say. I am a very social animal, I think. I like having lots of people around me. That’s one of the things I like about California. There are simply more people to be around. … Continue reading