The silent wall flower
Someone once said that when a person gets drunk that his or her true personality comes out.
Back in the day, I used to be terrified of the thought of drinking, of alcohol, of parties... pretty much anything I had no idea about. [Fear of the unknown, perhaps]. In my case it was probably church that drilled the thought of those things all being unclean, unholy... sinful. I won't argue that they're not or that they are.
At first when a bottle of beer was placed before me, I literally would freak out inside... then I would politely decline. I worried what I would become, who I would transform into. I worried I would lose myself: say or do something that was unforgivable and I would not recall it happening. I was worried I would turn into a flirt -- more than a flirt, a slut. And even more fearsome, I would become a slut who didn't remember a single thing that had occurred.
The first time, and every time since, that I've been tipsy, I've been silent. Apparently I'm a really quiet, very calm drunk. One-on-one I'm very talkative. In a group I'll be the one sitting in a back corner quietly watching while everyone else is going crazy. I'll admit, it wasn't what I expected, but it is how I typically am: demure, shy, quiet in groups and talkative when I’m alone with someone.
I was thinking about this with relief tonight. I was comforted to realize that my inner self is not a forgetful slut, but instead a quiet wall flower. I'd rather be a quiet wall flower deep inside me anyway. Of course, it makes me shy and it causes me to have a lack of trust in people, to confide in them irregularly. Everyone knows some secret about me but no one will ever know everything.
I used to think it'd be marvelous to stay up all night with a husband and share you're entire life story with them, from start to finish. Now, I know I couldn't do it. Now, I have regrets and secret hopes that no one will ever know. I enjoy my silence. I take pleasure in my “hermit tendencies.” I like to be with people, but not involved with them. I'm an observer, a silent wall flower, drunk or sober. It's who I am. I'm glad to be me.
Back in the day, I used to be terrified of the thought of drinking, of alcohol, of parties... pretty much anything I had no idea about. [Fear of the unknown, perhaps]. In my case it was probably church that drilled the thought of those things all being unclean, unholy... sinful. I won't argue that they're not or that they are.
At first when a bottle of beer was placed before me, I literally would freak out inside... then I would politely decline. I worried what I would become, who I would transform into. I worried I would lose myself: say or do something that was unforgivable and I would not recall it happening. I was worried I would turn into a flirt -- more than a flirt, a slut. And even more fearsome, I would become a slut who didn't remember a single thing that had occurred.
The first time, and every time since, that I've been tipsy, I've been silent. Apparently I'm a really quiet, very calm drunk. One-on-one I'm very talkative. In a group I'll be the one sitting in a back corner quietly watching while everyone else is going crazy. I'll admit, it wasn't what I expected, but it is how I typically am: demure, shy, quiet in groups and talkative when I’m alone with someone.
I was thinking about this with relief tonight. I was comforted to realize that my inner self is not a forgetful slut, but instead a quiet wall flower. I'd rather be a quiet wall flower deep inside me anyway. Of course, it makes me shy and it causes me to have a lack of trust in people, to confide in them irregularly. Everyone knows some secret about me but no one will ever know everything.
I used to think it'd be marvelous to stay up all night with a husband and share you're entire life story with them, from start to finish. Now, I know I couldn't do it. Now, I have regrets and secret hopes that no one will ever know. I enjoy my silence. I take pleasure in my “hermit tendencies.” I like to be with people, but not involved with them. I'm an observer, a silent wall flower, drunk or sober. It's who I am. I'm glad to be me.
posted by Stephanie @ 10:02 PM
1 Comments:
At 9:03 PM,
Tracy said…
Interesting theory. I guess at heart I am a gregarious philosopher, ready to share my ideas with the world and make out with the nearest red-headed Puerto Rican.
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