Potential Lovers, Run for the Hills!
Been doing some thinking lately about my self-described 'loner' status. I don't think I was never under any illusions that I was a loner in some 'cool' way. Just always saw it as one of various options. Somewhere along the line in my life I developed a conception of myself as a loner. And I had a nice little set of reasons for the fact that I was a loner, mostly loosely based on being an only child for a good part of my life. From there, of course, I learned to like adults better than other kids, blah, blah, blah. As I might explain this to a new friend or lover, they would nod knowingly. Explanations accepted, loner status, check. It was all very cut and dried, tied up with a nice little ribbon.

And, of course, it's not that simple.

One of the interesting things I'm learning about myself lately is how powerfully shy-in-groups I can be. Hanging out in new groups where I know few peole is pretty hard for me. It's not hard in the way that I spontaneously combust when I think about it; it's hard in that wallflower-inspiring sort of way. I have to make myself talk to other people--my natural disposition is quiet/stareatthewall/runaway at such things. Unless, of course, a school-like atmostphere is encouraged, and then I can raise my hand and speak; for some reason that's feels safer. (Thus my recent visit to the East Bay Atheists group wasn't quite so intimidating, though it had some of the same flavor as other outings I've had lately.)

And when I do make myself talk to people, it doesn't always work out very well for either of us. A recent conversation I had at a little party I went to recently:

Me: (after hearing she needed a beer badly after a rough day) So, why was your day so rough?
Her: (laughing, taking a swig)Not rough, just very, very looooooong.
Me: Ahah. (pause) (more pause) (can't think of the next thing to say)
Her: (wandering away...)

Of course, she could have said something back or whatever--but the point is, there's an easy opening there: "What did you do all day?" or some such. And this is an opening that I just couldn't see that night.

It can be even more painful than that. While I was waiting in line for the restroom the other day in a cafe, the woman behind me started talking to me. Now, this isn't the most comfortable place to have a conversation--and we were both sort of shifting from one leg to the other--but still:

Her: So, are you a student?
Me: Nope. Yes. Well, sort of. Finishing my master's, but not very quickly. (and then...) Why do you ask?
Her: (taken aback by my question)Erm, well, I don't know, it's just a good guess in a cafe.
Me: Yes, I guess it is. So how about you?

So I pulled that one out barely in the end, actually asking a pertinent question, but first I had to sort of freak her out by wondering why she asked if I was a student. It might have been an ok question, but it came out like: "Why are you talking to me?" I go meta with people before I go regular, it seems. Ack.

But shyness does not equal loner-ness. I imagine that many shy people don't want to be loners at all--though they may latch onto lonerness because that's easier (?) than trying to not-be-shy. So there's more to my percievd lonerness--I really do enjoy being alone a good deal of the time. Too much socializing and I go pretty crazy. This is true for most people, of course (I think!); it's just that the level at which I achieve 'too much socializing' is disturbingly low. Hanging out with a group of people for more than a couple of hours is exhausting, for instance. (Sometimes in a good way, but still...)

No where is this little quirk of mine more apparent than in my romantic relationships (looking into the past and future, now, because there certainly isn't anything to look at in the present). To a person, I think I have been quite a bit less social (in various ways) than anybody I've ever been romantic with. And a cursory look through the seive I like to call my memory (I think Lex got all of my memory brain cells), I think I've been mostly less social than any of my friends, too. Maybe a couple of exceptions. And when I say 'less social', I know it's complex, but I mostly just mean 'would more often just be alone than with anybody else' as well as 'doens't feel comfy in groups'.

And the thing is, that's sort of changing. I'm either recognizing something I didn't recognize before, or I'm just changing, or both. Probably both. I still tend to prefer to be alone a good deal of the time, but now I also tend to need some social time in a way that I don't think I ever have before. And it's a scary place to be, what with lots of friendships up in the air (cause or effect?). But here I am.

Still, Lucy's advice to the world might be appropriate in my case, nonetheless, since I'm likely still less social than most of the women I might be romantically interested in:

Filed under: Comics as Life and Therapy