Saying "Nothing" Speaks Volumes

Saying "Nothing" Speaks Volumes

When a dear friend of mine wrote and asked me to be a part of this, the first thing I did was question whether or not he had been hacked. I know my dear friend to be a man of few words. Not that he doesn’t speak at all or lacks any sort of social skills, but he, for as long as I’ve known him, has always tended to be more of an observer. Not that he wouldn’t converse; we have had several great discussions. I just have never known him as being very verbose. When I explained the reasons behind my questioning of this blog’s authenticity, he simply stated, “I decided I was tired of being quiet.”

It occurred to me that this simple action of being quiet is the same action I have been trying to fight my way through for years, it seems. I have been called everything from introverted to anti-social all because I do not share my life easily. Not one person, outside of my significant other, knows a lot about me, knows my daily routine, or knows my ins and outs. People may say that that’s normal; in a relationship, partners generally know more about one another than anyone else would. It’s all true. However, it has been pointed out to me that I have a problem sharing the smallest detail, even with those closest to me. For example, I don’t just randomly call a friend and tell them about my day or that I got my hair done or where I went for dinner the previous evening. If I do end up sharing those details, it’s only because I am already on the phone with a friend and I have a story related to whatever my friend is speaking of or the friend has asked for specifics of my day. Even then, nine times out of ten, if someone asks me what I’ve been up to, they are usually treated to the big reveal of, “Nothing.” I, of course, am great at turning this back around on someone.

A typical conversation with me often goes like this:

Friend: “How are you?”

Me: “Good. How are you?”

Friend: “Good.” (Friend quickly gives me a brief synopsis of what “good” entails.)

Friend follows up with, “What have you been up to?”

Me: “Nothing. You?”

I have now been successful in throwing the responsibility of the conversation back on said friend and have completely diverted the attention away from myself. So, then why do I feel so alone sometimes?

I don’t really wonder why I am this way. Between living in a household where, with one parent, no secret was sacred and another parent who taught me when I was young that no one really cared what I had to say; that I shouldn’t talk about my life because people aren’t truly interested in the details, I get why I am so closed off. Alas, those stories of my youth are best left for another time. The point to this rant is that, over the years, I have become notoriously private. This is sometimes why friends may not hear from me for days or weeks at a time. It’s not that I don’t love them. I would be there in a second for any one of them if they needed me. I hope they know that. I would spend hours on the phone with them if they needed me to, and I have done just that when the occasion has arisen. I just don’t feel like anything I have to say is worthy of saying. And maybe I just feel like the person on the other end wouldn’t be interested, or even more so that they are busy and I don’t want my troubles to be a bother to them.

I have been trying, though. I recently got back in touch with a friend from Junior High. We have been chatting here and there and meeting up for the occasional lunch, movie or visit. I truly enjoy her company and I am trying very hard to open up, but sometimes when I do, I feel like a stumbling, mumbling idiot and that my story should have stayed in my head, where it sounded 10x better.

Answering someone’s question of, “What have you been up to” with “Oh, I painted my toenails blue” just seems so silly to me. But it was also recently pointed out to me that that’s what sharing your life is; keeping people in the loop as to your activities, even the most mundane ones. I’m still figuring it out, I guess.

I agree with my friend, who originated this blog, though. I am tired of being quiet and I am attempting to ready myself for the vulnerable feeling of opening up. Will my friends still love me when they see that the friend, who is usually their rock in their times of need, actually has a gooey marshmallow-y center? Will they still think I’m an awesome person when I’m crying on their shoulder or will they be bored when I haven’t had much going on in my day where the most fantastic thing I’ve done is re-organize my kitchen pantry?

Maybe it’s just that the quiet people such as me just need to feel that the person we want to reveal ourselves to, honestly and truly wants to hear what we have to say. Perhaps once we can trust that our words are wanted to be heard, we’ll feel like saying them.

The point to all this, I guess, is that next time you notice someone you might suspect of being anti-social,  maybe make it more of a point to let them know that you’re  open to whatever they have to say, regardless of how menial it may seem. It might be a bigger deal to them than you think.