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.