I don't like shy people.

For me, it always stood as a privilege to be shy. You get to be shy. Society has allowed you specifically to be and stay shy but it’s not something awarded to everyone. As a black woman, a plus size woman at that, one who grew up in a giant, loud city where you have to scream to be heard it was never afforded to me. I had to open my mouth to get anything I wanted. I had to cut the tears, get over the fear quick, be brave, speak up and just get it done or I would have no chances at all.

When I come across shy adults I’m annoyed. I My spirit is irked. I emphasize adults not children. I have much more heart for kids. When I think of shy adults I think of them someone who’s been forever emotionally pampered by life, nothing has ever ripped them away from their meekness. They didn’t have to hustle. They didn’t have to learn to talk to people or lose out. They have been cradled for this long in life that they can make a habit of scurrying away and still some how survive.

I know this is a projection of my own trauma. I used to be a shy little girl. I could barely speak to people or look anyone in the eye. I used to be so afraid of eyes on me I’d hold my breath till I was dizzy in public places just so if someone was irritated by my breathing. I was a scared, worrisome little girl and no one cradled me. People don’t cradle little black girls. When I was picked on or tested which was constantly no one came to my defense. There was no '“leave her alone, she’s shy. she’s not bothering anybody”. Not once. People just watched me be pieced apart. I had to figure out how to fend for myself. That included raising my voice even when it cracked. Shyness was stomped out of me very early in life. I had to build the toughest skin and in that I came out a very strong-willed person but also someone with plenty resentment about it.

As many black women and plus sized women, I have been told “You’re so confident/ you’re so brave/I wish I could be as confident as you” and I almost slip and say “I am because I don’t have a choice, you do. You’ll be considered whether you speak or not” I want to say it. It drips off my tongue but it never comes out.

In confronting the shadow of myself I’d say I’m very dismissive of shy adults. I don’t run to help them, I let someone else do it. If I see them tripping up on words they’re whispering I don’t offer to speak for them. I want them to work to express themselves the way I had to. The reason they are so shy is that people have continuously reached out to catch them. I don’t know how problematic this is of me but this is a part where I feel tough love is absolutely necessary. You need to learn how to speak for yourself. I can understand being uncomfortable with attention from time to time but to always be in a state of shrinking nauseates me and I doubt it will ever not.

So there it is, I’ve laid it out. I don’t like shy people. I’ve gotten it off my chest.

Maybe one day I’ll hash this out in therapy, get to a conclusion that will give my more sympathy for meek people but it’s definitely not today. Shy adults are my big ick. A type of people who remind me of the the innocent girl I barely got be.