I might as well have been born in school. My mother owned and operated a nursery school in our home before I was born, so I was “at school” on my first day home from the hospital.
Being one of “teacher’s kids” meant all the students knew me and were eager to have me, the teacher’s daughter, join in their activities. That made my early years fun.
Being the Teacher’s Kid Didn’t Follow Me into School
When I started kindergarten at age 4, I was lost. I’d never had to make friends before. They’d just been there every day.
The problem was, I was shy, and I spent much of my childhood waiting for people to be my friends. In all of those years, I hadn’t learned how to make the first move. I did have one good friend (the daughter of one of Mom’s employees), who often included me when she got together with her other friends, and I envied her all those friends.
Part of a large family, I had siblings to spend time with, but they all had other friends to be with too. Why was it so hard for me?
I Got to Know Characters
I was a nerd who liked books. My “friends” tended to be fictional characters. I liked to make up stories and play with words. Real, live people didn’t understand me.
Of course, I was a part of the school community, but I was always on the outskirts. I tried other communities. I joined Girl Scouts and sports teams. I was never very good at sports, but I was tall and had potential. At least, I had people to spend time with (when I wasn’t reading or writing poems).
Adulthood Isn’t Easier
In my adult years, I joined PTO—and became president. It helped me to be more comfortable talking with other people.
The good friend I mentioned above invited me to join her card club. I was still shy, but I liked being with the group, and I liked playing cards. A common interest brought us together, but we became true friends. We did things together besides playing cards, and we still get together after more than 40 years, even though many of today’s members are not the same ones who started it all those years ago. Sadly, the friend who first invited me passed away 40 years ago.
A New Community
I finally found the writing community. Such welcoming people! I met writers at critique groups, workshops, and conferences. We share a passion for Words and Story. And that helps me to step out of my shyness. Some of my best friends are writers.
This summer, I was welcomed into a new community: a group of ladies about my age who play water volleyball once a week. I’m still not good at sports, but I’m tall and have potential. Their games are more about having fun than winning. We laugh and have a great time!
If you’re shy and have a hard time making friends, find a group—a community—you share an interest with. And join. You might be surprised at the friendships you make. And the fun you have!
