I’ve always thought that I’m better off alone. The fear of what others think would drive me far, far away from the whole friend thing. Or anything, really.
Even the thought of asking for my pencil back from someone creates a black hole in my stomach, sucking in my other organs. The fear led me to believe that my life would be truly perfect if I never had to speak with anyone for the rest of my life. And for a while, I was happy like this.
I was a lonely 9-year-old girl, and I enjoyed it. I sat in my room happy and content despite not speaking for the past eight hours and counting. I’d go maybe the whole day saying hardly anything. Not a word from me, the only social interaction I’d get was with my birds. I liked this silence, loved it even. I truly felt that I’d be fine without socializing with another person. My parents hardly understood it, and I was far too scared to help them understand.
“Desiree, stop being so rude!” they’d say.
It wasn’t until I broke down in tears after being forced into a far too crowded shoe store just two weeks before I started 8th grade did they start getting an idea.
At school, the only friends I had were the ones I had made in elementary school. I was far too scared to make new ones, far too scared to make the first move. Once elementary ended, some friends had grown distant and went their own ways. By the end of middle school, I could count how many friends I had on one hand.
As much as I wanted to, I was still far too scared of making the first move. Everyone in my grade seemed to already have their own friend group, and I didn’t want to intrude on that. In present day high school, I would say that I’m slowly but surely getting over my whole lone wolf mentality.
I’ve been immensely proud of myself this year as I made a few new friends and actually participated in group work in class. While I’ve still found myself with a hole in my stomach and my vocal cords unused most of the time, progress is progress. No matter how little, it’s still worth celebrating, to be proud of one’s self.
Though I have to thank the people at this school for my courage, however little it may be. I don’t think it’d be like this if the staff and students were any different. While I’ve had to work for progress, they’ve certainly made it easier for me, even if I’ve never spoken a word to them. They may not even realize how much of a help they’ve been. Still, I’m thankful for them. Even if what they did was something microscopic and nothing in their eyes, it was something to me. It mattered to me. And I am so ever thankful.
