The Shychik’s Guide to Networking

 

My friends, coworkers and family members refuse to believe that I am indeed, a shychik.  Quite possibly because the confident, secure, ready to take on the world persona that they see is a far cry from the quivering- lipped- kindergartner- clutching- a- fistful- of- mom’s- blue- polyester- pants- while- trying- to- hide- behind- her individual who is indeed the reality of my inner being when it comes to certain social situations.

I’ve always been a shychik, it’s just that as I’ve gotten older, I’ve become more adept at stuffing the quivering-lipped kindergartner efficiently in the closet of my psyche in order to take care of the business of living, growing and achieving in a world of extroverts.

Now, don’t get the wrong impression here, I’m not a nerdy, what-not-to-wear antisocial wallflower who is basically invisible to her fellow man.  I know how to dress, apply makeup, chat with strangers, and flirt with the best of them.  It’s just that this kind of behavior is largely external, while internally I’m the girl who would really rather be having a cup of coffee with her dog at her feet and her bf discussing hot topics of the day and solving the problems of the universe.  And, believe it or not, I actually do enjoy going to parties when there are people I know and want to hang out with present. 

As fate, desperate life choices, or an omnipotent entity with a scathingly ironic sense of humor (see chapter on Jesus, Buddha and the Universe) would have it, the way that I make my living stands in complete hilarious contrast to my inner shychik.  As a business owner, I'm thrust into the position of professional networker.  Yeahhh….my goal each and every day is to go out and meet total strangers, develop strong relationships with them as quickly as possible and get them to procure goods and services from me.

Let me just point out, despite my natural aversion to communication and human contact, I’m actually quite adept at networking.  It’s not that I don’t like people, I really, really do (in almost all cases, although we’ve all met the exceptions to the rule, haven’t we?).   It’s just that in unfamiliar settings, with unknown outcomes, people tend to scare the hell out of me.  It’s not rejection that makes my blood turn to ice in my veins, and it’s not rudeness that makes me want to look at an ultimately fascinating spot on the sidewalk when someone passes by.  I guess if I had to sum up my discomfort with the interactions which so many blessed folks take for granted in one word it would be…awkwardness.  You know, those moments when words are either particularly elusive, making conversation impossible unless one possesses the extractions skills of a Bronx dentist, or words are plentiful but inappropriate, offensive or just plain mixed up beyond recognition.  In either case, one is left feeling socially inept and embarrassed, either for one’s self or for the unfortunately awkward soul with whom they are making contact.

Fortunately, I don’t let my abhorrence for things awkward deter me from doing what needs to be done and taking care of business.  Which brings to mind the question… “How on earth does she do it?”

The short answer is years of practice.  But there is a better explanation, and, since my PC is a non-threatening, non-judgmental, non-awkward entity to whom I can say anything, I will expound
further than the short answer.  I am the sum total of my experiences.  Some have been traumatic, some have been joyful beyond imagination, and all have served to shape me into the (hopefully) lovable, if a bit introspective and introverted “hot mess” (my boyfriend’s term, not mine) that I am today.  I’ve learned to embrace the sage advice offered by the last bastion of wisdom in our culture (the Nike corporation) and have decided to “Just DO It!”  Which is by no means as easy as it sounds.  Curse the glib advertising execs who coined the phrase and made it sound so readily achievable!  But, achievable it is, with grit, courage, and the occasional jello shot, one can “Just DO It!”  Just don’t do jello shots at work.

I have several things going on in my mind as I gear up for a social event – what to wear, who I should endeavor to talk to, what strategy I should have for approaching people (that one almost never turns out like I planned, but I figure it would be poor form to not have a strategy), and most importantly, who is the caterer and will they have anything without copious amounts of dairy available? (IBS at a networking event can be a bit of a problem).

I execute my plans for the evening in a series of tried and true steps:

1.        Arrive early enough that I can get a good parking space (where my sporty little German car is in sight of other arriving networkers), but not so early that I’m one of five people in the room standing around smiling awkwardly because it’s too quiet to start a conversation.

2.       Get the lay of the land.  When approaching the event, I try to focus on my purpose for being there and my goals for the evening rather than the queasiness in my stomach at the thought of being cast adrift in a sea of people who are often times more socially terrified than I am.  That accomplished, I people watch to note who is there, and gird up my loins (no, I’m a girl, I don’t have loins – I don’t think- but you know what I mean) to go approach the key players that I have targeted, er, chosen as potential business associates, for the evening.

3.       Smile, smile, smile.  I’ve been told many times that I have a terrific smile (yeah, that’s from my boyfriend too, but it doesn’t make it any less valid!), and I employ it in every situation that I can at an event.  “Pleased to meet you” – big grin. “ You own a business that could benefit from my company’s products and services?” – sweet smile (if in the South, I’d probably bat my eyelashes as well for that one).  “You say your boss is a douchebag?” – sympathetic smile with a rueful headshake.  You get the idea.

4.       Okay, this one is a bit of a copout, but if I’m  being honest, I have to include some shychik survival skills:  I try to always have food or drink around so that when there are the inevitable lulls in the conversation, I  can serenely sip or nibble and remark upon the quality (or lack thereof, but I try to be positive whenever possible) of the libations and edibles.  ( The caveat to this is that you really should eat before you go to an event so that you don’t scarf down massive quantities of high cal/high carb goodies while attempting conversation.  No one wants to talk to someone whose mouth is always full, and take note, there aren’t many obese networkers out there either, just saying.  I know, I know, that was totally not politically correct, but this ain’t politics honey, it’s business, and the harsh fact of the matter is that typically, attractive networkers tend to be more effective).  Let the hate mail begin.

5.       Get people talking to me!  How do I do it?  By asking questions.  People love to talk about themselves and their businesses typically.  If I can engage them in conversation and get them talking about themselves, they will hopefully leave the conversation thinking that I’m far more witty and charming than I actually am.  I whip out the smile several times during this process.

6.       When I make contact with someone with whom I want to develop a business relationship, throughout the smiling, questioning, drawing- them- out process, I keep two main goals in mind:  I want to ensure that I have a means of contacting them in the future (exchanging business cards – if their cell number isn’t on it, I work up sufficient courage to ask for it!), and I want to make plans to get together at a later date.  If plans can’t be made on the spot, at least I can plant the suggestion, then call to work out the details.

Now, it bears bringing up, that the folks I’m trying to network with are not the Billy Bob guy next door type (yeah baby, political correctness goes out the door once more, yeehaw), they are business owners, entrepreneurs and community leaders who have tight schedules and high standards.  Yep, that’s just the kind of pond a shychik wants to fish in…NOT!  But the fact of the matter is that I have something to offer these folks that will potentially tremendously benefit them and their businesses, it would be remiss of me not to try to get a foot in the door to help them out.  All sense of profitable altruism aside, these are by and large, quite an intimidating group of pedigreed people.

So how on earth does a shychik like me get up the gumption to even enter the room?  By realizing that I am the sum total of my experiences.  I’ve been through my share of ups and downs, the likes of which serve to minimize the life impact to be had from the potential pain of not maximizing my opportunities at a cocktail party.  I am a person who has valid thoughts, ideas and plans.  Someone who is valuable simply because she exists.  A woman who is important because she loves and is loved.  And at the end of the day, isn’t that what gives us all a common denominator in this crazy existence known as the human race?

All that said, I love my job!  I’ve experienced tremendous growth and a feeling of accomplishment that is outta this world.  Guess that’s what happens when I step outside of myself to do things that I never dreamed I could do.  And, did I mention…I’ve found that there are so many people out there who are a lot like me, just making friends and taking care of business.  Ain’t life grand?

Beginning at the End

Ever have one of those days where you shake your head in puzzlement and ask yourself, "How the hell did I get here?"  I find that happening with increasing regularity these days, despite the fact that, although there is some truth in my life that is currently waaaay stranger than fiction, I am mostly content with my circumstances.

Good stuff -
         Shychik has the world's most amazing boyfriend, who hereafter shall be referred to as Mr. Lifequake (long story, I'll tell you later).

         Shychik has 4 amazingly diverse but universally wonderful offspring who provide her with a dearth of writing material.  And most of them are gainfully employed (more on that later).

        Shychik loves her line(s) of work, which include but are not limited to:  Interior Decorating, Dating Coaching, Image Consulting, Writing an Epic Novel, and teaching at a local community college.  Yes, scary but true, I'm in a position to shape hearts and minds bwahahahaha!

Challenges (I'd call them pains-in-the-ass, but as stated earlier, I strive to maintain my dignity) -

       Custody battle with an ex who has more money than morals and recently acquired a wife via the internet who bears a striking resemblance to the spawn of Satan.  Much, much more later     >:-)
      
       A recent relocation resulting from above-referenced custody battle which leaves Shychik paying both a mortgage and a rent payment, sighhhhh

       The grim reality that the above-referenced relocation has resulted in the relationship with Mr. Lifequake being a long-distance one.  :(

So that brings us up to speed in the present, because we're beginning at the end.  Now let's take a little journey through time to give you some background about who I was, who I am, and how I got here.

The nightmare goes all the way back to grade school…

Everyone stands in a line waiting to be chosen for a team.  I stare at the ground in front of my feet, slowly moving a piece of bark back and forth with the toe of my sneaker.  “I pick Susie, I pick Sally” I listen dully as the team captains choose their best friends, star players and mediocre players in that order.  As one by one kids leave the line to stand with their teams, I begin to panic, noting that there are almost no people left to choose, then it’s down to two, me and the girl with Downs Syndrome.  “I choose Allison”.  Are you kidding me???  They chose the girl with Downs before me?  I really don’t think that it was because I wasn’t a good player, I could hold my own, but rather that no one knew my name.  Or maybe I was invisible.  That’s certainly how I felt.  Such is the life of Shychik.

It wasn’t that I didn’t have friends, I always had one or two, kind persistent souls who were willing to do the monumental amount of work that it took to get me to talk so that they could get to know me.  But outside my immediate circle of tenacious friends, it was as though I didn’t exist.

Fast forward to Junior High…

After years of being invisible (which I usually used to the greater good rather than for evil pursuits), I was unceremoniously dumped into the deep end of the emotional and hormonal cesspool known as Junior High.  I told myself over and over again before my first day that this was an opportunity, a chance for a brand new start and I could invent any persona I chose to present to the world.  I could break free from the bondage of shyness that had held me captive my entire life.  Yeah, I didn’t really believe it either, but if it kept me from throwing up on the bus, so be it.

It was in Junior High that I discovered the sheer thrill of a class called Drama.  I took to Drama like a duck to water.  Here was a venue wherein I could pretend to be someone else and be applauded for it.  I noted that the concept worked far better in Drama class than in real life.

I decided to be brave, bit the bullet, joined Pep Club, Ski Club, Drama Club (of course) and various other outlets for socialization, fiercely determined to never be invisible again.  It was by turns exhilarating and humiliating, but, although I didn’t know it then, such was the nature of the Junior High experience, and in the end, I came through it alive.

And then there was High School…

With the realization of the power contained in a big smile and a scanty pair of short shorts came a confidence that was heretofore absent.  I found out that it was fun being a teenage girl and there were perks that  came along with it!  The Shychik was still present and accounted for, but was becoming more and more accustomed to being pushed into the background to make way for new and exciting experiences.

Once adulthood struck, although still inwardly paralyzed by insecurities at times, I had a wide variety of coping mechanisms in place to deal with the Shychik.  Very seldom did I let shyness get in the way of goals, ambitions and adventures.  I even learned how to control the trembling in my voice and still the shaking of my hands, at least until after the fact when I was safely ensconced in a ladies room, elevator, car, etc..

So what are the characteristics of a Shychik?  Well, I can only speak from my experience, but, after having had enough girltalk over the years to form a reasonable frame of reference, I’m thinking that there are probably a lot of fabulous Shychiks out there who will be able to relate.

·         Shychiks will talk to anyone who approaches them, but will not initiate contact if there is any way around it.  In fact, in a social situation, the Shychik is probably inwardly screaming, “Someone please come talk to me!  I’m an interesting person, I just don’t approach people!”

·         Shychiks pray that they get an answering machine when making a phone call.  That way, information is conveyed without the potential awkwardness of talking to an actual person.

·         Shychiks will troubleshoot potentially embarrassing situations that they could possibly find themselves in and will plan their cool, calm reaction in advance.

·         Shychiks are worse than men about asking for directions and will drive around for as long as it takes rather than stopping at a gas station for help.

·         Shychiks will avoid, evade and maneuver to thwart awkwardness, embarrassment and emotional risk.  They like to play it safe.

·         The four most terrifying words to a Shychik are, “we need to talk”.  Dear god!  About…gulp…feelings??  The Shychik would almost always rather die than talk about feelings

That said, probably one of the most defining characteristics of the Shychik is that most people will never get emotionally close enough to her to know these things.  Transparency and sharing is reserved for those who, through often times Herculean effort, have proved themselves safe and trustworthy.   On the surface, the Shychik is a capable, confident human being who can and will get the job done.  It takes commitment and love to unlock the treasure chest of the inner Shychik, and those who have the tenacity and grace to do it are almost always glad they did.

So, if the Shychik is such a private person, why oh why am I writing about her inner self for all the world to see?  Because this is for all the Shychiks out there who will recognize a little bit of themselves in these words.  We’ve come a long way baby, and it’s time to let the world know.

A Brief Introduction and Caveat

Welcome to the maiden post of Shychik's Musings!  If you're not familiar with Shychik, let me introduce myself...I'm a complicated but fun, vaguely middle-aged cuddlebug with a passion for prose and an intrinsic tendency toward self protection.  In short, I'm shy, but I'm continuing my lifelong quest to get past that.  Part of the way that I do that is to throw myself (figuratively speaking) out there in all my opinionated glory for all the world to see and hopefully debate.  Some topics that are my favs include:

             Sex, sex, sex!
             Relationships
             Politics
             Spirituality (which is different from religion, religion makes me itch)
             Current events
             Dating
             Breaking through the walls of shyness, self-consciousness, etc...
             Philosophy
             Home Décor
             The Joys of Repurposing
             Work and other torture

And most importantly.....

             ANYTHING that touches my heart, pisses me off or deserves to be said in the defense of Truth, Justice and the Shychik Way.  Comments welcome! 

Please be forewarned, the content of this blog is not for the faint of heart or those who are easily offended - honesty is paramount, and I rarely mince words under the guise of tact, despite my ongoing endeavor to always remain dignified and above-reproach.  Welcome to my world :)