confessions [of a Mel] part.8.

Remember how in that last post about our 'stay.cation' I was saying how wonderfully quiet it was?

Confession: silence hasn't always been my friend.

Now most of us probably struggle with some form of social awkwardness, right?  Some are too outgoing and overwhelm everybody... some are too quiet and befuddle everybody... and some are extroverted-introverts who are stressed by silence - so they just can't stop talking (yep, that ones me).

If admitting the problem is the first step to change... I've had a number of years to work this 'kink' out of my system.  But, boy you should have seen me in my prime.  
Back in my late teens, early twenties.. I was a piece-o'-work!  Put me in any social setting and I was instantly steering the conversations with a whole barrage of blathering.

My relatives used to tease me about being in training as an 'interrogator' when they would receive the full force of my awkwardness.  See, I used to work with them, and every day I would start up: "Hey, how are you? How was your night? What did you do? What did you have for dinner?  How was your sleep?!" {shudder... I wish I was joking here}.

I just couldn't handle silence.

 Ben got a good dose of this dysfunction while we dated too.

We'd be out on a nice nature hike... and I'd be chattering away like a chick-a-dee... and eventually, he'd gently say: "You know, it's ok to not have something to talk about every moment... silence can be nice too". Love that guy.

So, I'd agree, apologise, fidget ...while my mind was still racing as to what the next topic of conversation could be.

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Sometimes I'd wonder what the heck was my problem.  Especially when you have those 'out-of-body' moments in a conversation and you're trying to yell: "will somebody just shut ME up?!". 

Finally, an epiphany did just that.

Not years on a psychiatrist's couch, or episodes of Dr.Phil... or any other intervention.

Just a drive in the back seat of my parent's car.

They were having a wee 'spat'.

Nothing too serious, but enough to strike to my very core.

(See, growing up my dear folks used to argue like cats and dogs.

One would yell, the other stomp off and slam things.

But always, always it would culminate in the 'silent treatment'.

Thick, oppressive, cut-it-with-a-knife silence would suffocate our home).

In that car seat, as a young adult, it hit me.

Silence in my world was not neutral.

Silence meant something is wrong, or, someone is mad.

I unknowingly would run from silence in any/all interactions for fear it meant the other person was upset with me or uncomfortable.

This epiphany was a HUGE breakthrough for me personally.

I'm still a work-in-progress of course.

I still love to interrogate ask meaningful questions of others.

But, I'm also learning to breathe on the other side of silence.

That allowing room for quiet in a conversation can be a beautiful thing... it can even draw others out when they feel comfortable (not squashed by the awkward factor).

I'm learning to be still.

To listen better.

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So, to all you friends and family who endured my manic-questionings over the years... thank you for your patience, and I'm sorry for being such a dweeb.

To my parents, thanks for being such a shining example of God's grace that restored and revitalized your marriage.

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Shhhhhhhhhhh, can you hear it?

Silence.

I'm not even breaking out in a sweat anymore!

mellow mama,

Mel ;o)