6-23-13 RMB Not Shy
Dear Rita Mae Brown,
When the boys sleepover, I sleep in sweatpants instead of shorts; a big t-shirt instead of a tank, lest there be a need for me to get up in the night with them. I wait until I am in my room for the night to remove socks and other under garments. I don’t know where this modesty came from, but I have always had it; never one to feel comfortable in a swimsuit and all…not really one to feel comfortable in anyone’s presence at all, clothed or not.
I am sure therapy would reveal a source for these issues, but I don’t do therapy…no matter how many people tell me I should. I write Rita Mae Brown letters.
Speaking of RMB, there is one publicity photo of you in a pink shirt from decades passed where you have a long sleeved, pink turtle neck on with dress slacks, but you are barefoot. I find that risqué…in a good way. Perhaps it is because you are so well covered otherwise. Intriguing.
I do believe in past lives. I think there are too many indications that we have lived before to deny it. I wonder if my modesty came from another time. It has an 1800’s feel to it. It frustrated lovers to no end.
I carry a vivid memory of once being introduced to a family friend. I must have been around four. I hung to my mother’s leg; tried to hide behind it. She apologized to the woman, “Sorry, she’s shy.”
‘I’m shy? That’s what I am? That’s why I don’t like being near people?’ I learned something about myself that day, or at least another’s interpretation of myself.
It is 1:00 am, perhaps this is the hour rambling begins.
As I grew, I analyzed what it meant to be shy. Its definition seemed to include a fear; fear of meeting people; of being around people. I came to the conclusion that I am not shy. I just don’t like people. I should rephrase that. I don’t like the way I feel when I am near people. There is too much energy; too many issues surfacing…mine? their’s?
By my thirties, after much research into paranormal and all things mystical, knowing more about myself than ever before, I could identify where another’s aura begins. I can see that it isn’t the people that bother me…it is deeper than that. It is their essence. With some, their need is overwhelming. With many, their own insecurities scream out. With others their deceit or personal agenda shows itself.
I wonder how many others who are sensitive to such things have been called “shy”. I wonder how many learn that they are not shy at all. I consider it a gift, insight, wisdom, awareness…maybe I give myself too much credit. But I have seen others that have the same gifts. My niece’s kindergarten friend that she protected from the world, who is now a college man and still an ever faithful friend, he is gifted as such.
With gratitude for our gifts,
Loraine
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