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I’m going to let everyone in on a secret.

I can take care of myself. Believe it or not.

My hubs has this strange impression that because I don’t talk to people means that I am scared to talk to people and therefore need someone to do it “for me”. Because I’m four. Obviously.

Not true. I don’t usually talk to people, mostly because I tend to end up becoming a big ole ball of fuzzy awkwardness and I say things in my own special weird way, which is not always…appreciated. Okay, people look at me funny, like I just told them I believe in faeries.

Why, yes. Yes I do.


Being an introvert has its own set of issues. I am less likely to join a group, to talk to people, to strut out into the world as if I belong. Sure. But if I have a question, if I want to know something, I’ll ask.

If I choose not to ask…and yes, this is a choice, not fear…the knowing isn’t at the top of my list. Simple. All necessary answers will appear when needed. And some things I honestly don’t care if I know.

When I don’t approach a store clerk to ask a question, it’s because I’m okay with no answer. Even if that means I miss out on whatever it was I was thinking of doing. I chose not to ask and I will deal with any consequences of that choice, without crying, without whining.

I also do not need anyone to ask “for me” or tell me how I should have handled the situation.

I am always very happy with how I handle situations.


The problem hits when someone else disagrees with my choices. This is not my problem. I will not go back and change my actions to satisfy them.

However, this always makes me anxious. I begin to spiral down the I CAN’T DO ANYTHING RIGHT void.


Which is ridiculous.


Let me say it again. If I want to know, I’ll ask. I’m not four-years-old and need anyone to do it for me, nor do I want to be told what to do or what I should have done. Guess what, I’m not going to do things your way…


I’m not you.

What do I want?

To be allowed to live the way that works best for me. To be allowed to stay silent. To be accepted for all my awkwardness. It’s taken 43 years for me to make it here, that’s a lot of work.

That got a little ranty… yeah…



And I apologize to all the people who have had to deal with my strange brew of weird when I open my mouth.