A failed attempt at socializing

A terrible-horrible-really-bad-no-good event for an introvert

Photo by Al Elmes on Unsplash

Everyone says you need to get out more, see the world. Every relationship coach tells you that your partner isn’t going to miss his way and accidentally arrive at your door step. Although, that would be nice. The final straw that broke your resilience was when a career coach said that “anything can be learned”, even social interaction. You’ve got to respect the career coach.

After much compulsion about getting out more, you finally agree within yourself that you needed to go out.

On friday, you get back from work. You were super productive this week, you think. Let’s let loose a bit, let’s meet people. By the way, you’re young. That’s what people your age do.

A friend of yours mentions in passing, during a conversation, a wedding happening the next day at your previous church. Finally, a chance to socialize, although you don’t know the couple. You’re pumped and asked if you could come. Her response is positive.

“What if you finally meet someone at the wedding?” squeeeeee!!!!, you pick out your purple lace dress. The corset one, it brings out your hips. You pick out your black box-heeled shoes, it’ll go with your black bag and is comfortable to move around in. Your golden hoop earrings define your rounded face, so you set that aside.

Saturday comes. You wake up by 4am. By 6am, you’ve started applying your make-up. You’re not a pro so you keep it simple and light to prevent unwanted accidents. The wedding starts at 10am. By 10:20, you’re at church and you join in on the ceremony.

When you saw the bride walk down the aisle, you thought you were going to break down in tears. She was too beautiful and she glowed under the church spotlights. Her father walked her down the aisle, and you suddenly missed yours a lot. You wished your father was still here when you’d be walking down the aisle. He wouldn’t.

The wedding vows go well and then the reception party. Familiar faces sit with you on the rounded table. They were your co-workers in church but since you left, it was a bit awkward seeing them again.

After minutes of silence and looking for places to set your gaze without making anyone uncomfortable, someone turns to you and says, “you look familiar”. You try to play it cool by smiling and responding that you were a member of the church. “So why did you leave?”, again you smile and explain that you moved to another church.

You go back to silence. “what do people say on occasions like these?”. “How do people even make small talk?”. Time passes, you feel like the traitor who came to check on how everyone was doing. Maybe you shouldn’t have come, maybe you should have just stayed home. silence. You should have taken out more time to know people at the church. Sigh, you’re very uncomfortable. You don’t know how to make small talk with anyone on your table because you don’t really know them.

You can’t take the silence anymore. If you can’t start a conversation, maybe you should just leave. You get up and use the back door. Fresh air. You walk as fast as your box-heels can take you to the car. You have your friends keys so you start the car, wind down the windows and hop into the passengers seat.

You text your friend that you’re in the car, she comes to check if you’re okay. You confirm that you are, she can go back to the party. You can finally loose the corset that had been giving you a mini heart burn. You put up your legs on the seat and turn on YouTube. This is you. This is what brings you comfort, a quiet, deserted space where you can be yourself.

Would I go out again, although I know I’m probably gonna be silent during the event? yes!