Piece Of Mind

Normal people become more socially adept as they age. Experience teaches them to better express themselves, how to connect with others and integrate into society.

It seems I’ve got it all backwards. I was most socially adept in my kindergarten years, and from there on it all went downhill.

The precipitating event that led to the retardation of my social skills lies in a conversation my mother had with another parent, at a kindergarten concert we put up. It went something like this:

Parent: Oh, so which class is your son in? Sparkle Daisy, Fluffy Puppy or Unstoppable Murderous Executioner?
Mum: That last one, that’s the one.
Parent: What a coincidence! I’ve a son there too! Does your kid tell you about school? Is he happy there?
Mum: Why, yes he is! Is there cause for concern?
Parent: Well… my son says there’s a huge bully in class, and I was wondering if my son was being singled out or something.
Mum: Gasp! A bully? At so young an age? That’s terrible!
Parent: Wait! There he is! That’s the bully!

Of course, that was the moment I appeared on stage. And that was also the first of many instances to come when my mum would look away and pretend not to know her first-born son, otherwise known simply to her as the 8-Hour-Labour-Clot (I've peeked into her diary before).

And I wasn't even a classic bully in the sense that I resorted to strong-arm tactics to gain an overwhelming advantage over the weak! If memory serves me right, he had been the first to be rude and boorish, and I had simply demonstrated my equally robust vocabulary of bad words.

Of course, Mr. Left Fist and Mr. Right Fist had something to add in too. For emphasis. I think that's why the boy thought I was a bully. Pansy.

Most mothers refuse to believe their kids are anything short of angels, but my mother evidently went to a different parenting school. You little rascal, she told me that night, your dad and I are going to reform you. We’re going to teach you proper manners, and how to relate properly to people.

And those lessons were what screwed everything up for me.

You see, now I’m incapable of effectively communicating with anyone. I can’t bring myself to say directly what’s on my mind, and I take pains to be sensitive. I even have a personalized bush I bring around to flog during long conversations. Ok that sounds wrong.

It’s not that I lie, mind you. I'm still frank, and honest, but by the time I properly justify and qualify my statements everyone assumes I'm lying. But I maintain that it makes all the difference, as the following example shows:

Friend: Does this dress make me look fat?
What I Think: Yes it does.
Right Answer: It’s not a flattering dress for you. The way it’s cut, it doesn’t accentuate your body shape at all. You look plumper than you really are. Try others?
Wrong Answer: I don’t think it’s possible for you to drown.

I’m not exactly the confrontational sort (I rarely lose my temper, but when I do…), and prefer to find diplomatic ways to solve things. Unfortunately, this lack of blunt candidness hampers me most when something irritates, even infuriates me.

For if I am unable to think of a good way to approach the issue, I’d toddle off and bottle it all up. More than once, this has resulted in my having to put up with things I’m not comfortable with, when all it would have taken was a frank word or two, to spare myself all the unnecessary angst.

But I’m learning, or should I say, unlearning many of the niceties my parents bade me learn.

Recently, on a few occasions when people went too far, I directly called out their bad behavior and made it clear I wasn't happy with them. I'm still hampered by concerns that I would destroy friendships if I said all that is on my mind, but I'm making hearty progress.

Hopefully, if all goes well, I'll be able to better communicate with my friends, feel less angsty, and also come across as more honest!

That has to be good, with so many birds with one stone, and without even resorting to the Fist Brothers.