So, one of the main reasons I became a writer is because I love to avoid people. Seriously, that’s the main reason. Not a love for writing, but a love for the peace and quiet feature writing brings.
I really, really hate public speaking and, often, I hate even having a regular conversation with people I don’t know too well. It’s nice to just sit behind a keyboard and pretend you’re bold and not socially awkward.
At university, I bought massive headphones before they were cool. Not to listen to music, but to stop people talking to me. I once cried in uni when I had to give a presentation in class. Another time, I quit my job after they forced me to speak to a room full of people with a microphone in my face. I also quit my job as a yoga teacher in Cambodia because, you know, you have to tell a room of people what to do. Not my jam AT ALL.
Anyway, I just came out of a meeting with colleagues in which I had to speak for a minute about what it is I do all day (which is, essentially, just writing words about whatever I’m told to). It’s a weekly meeting but, without fail, my voice shakes, I play my role down and, by all accounts, nobody can hear a damn word I say, anyway.
When I tell people I’m shy, they all laugh. Firstly, because I’m 32 and, really, it’s ridiculous to be shy beyond puberty. Nobody thinks it’s endearing anymore, it’s just kind of pathetic or, at worst, just plain rude. They also laugh because, when you know me well or when I’m in my comfort zone, I can be the most outgoing person in the world. I’m Madonna when I’m on a night out with friends and a teeny tiny mouse when I’m presenting work. It’s hard to convince people you’re shy when they’ve seen you belt out Mariah tunes in a mic while sitting on a bar.
But, obviously, talking about Grown Up Things is much scarier. My excellent Mariah impersonation just won’t cut it in a professional environment and sitting behind a computer screen doesn’t get you those big career breaks.
My profession isn’t harbouring me anymore. While, in my last job, I could sit in a tiny office by myself and type to my heart’s content without the need to make awkward small talk with colleagues or answer the phone to goodness knows who (I mean, I probably should have answered the phone, but there was no boss there to know I never did) in this job I have to be bold and outgoing and well out of my comfort zone. Gulp.
As I type this, I am still shaking from my one minute in the spotlight. There’s a long way to go, but hiding behind your mum’s apron just isn’t so cute in your thirties. Big sigh.
