I’m the Quiet One

Acknowledging who we truly are and being proud to be that person and not someone else — finally learning my lesson.

Annoying friends. They can teach us so many things. Very often, their lessons are about the things they do that aggravate us to no end. But sometimes, the lessons we learn are about ourselves.

That’s where this hat comes in. It reminds me of a very important lesson that I learned one summer.

That I can be proud to be the quiet one. I can relish knowing who I am and celebrate ME!

One summer we spent almost every weekend out roaming around north Texas with two of our friends from the paranormal group we were in. We traveled to old cemeteries, places with a history of haunted activity, old abandoned places, sites where deaths were reported…oh, so many places we went. Every weekend for two or three months.

And of course, a nice lunch out was always included in our outing somewhere along the way.

One of our friends had intuitive abilities to make connections with other realms. The other one — well, let’s just say that she claimed she could. But I won’t go into that, because her perceived abilities — or not — are a story for another day. And with me still sporting a few not-so-good-vibes about this one lady, I probably won’t ever write that story. At least not while my feelings are still, shall we say, less than favorable.

Yes, I can promote good vibes and positivity here all day long, but I have to admit that I’m human. I come with flaws and I have moments that are not stellar good vibes worthy.

But despite my feelings for LS (there, now you’ll never be able to figure out who she is!), I still learned a very valuable lesson from her. And for that, I am eternally thankful.

We’d been out one bright sunny afternoon, at an old, abandoned barn site. We’d been wandering around for an hour or so, all four of us going off in our own directions, and passing each other on our wanderings, comparing notes, etc. Let’s just say that LS was not the quiet one in the group. She was loud. And boisterous. And always had her mouth in motion.

I’d gotten tired of it and wandered off on my own. I went to the car, pulled out a composition notebook I carried for these outings, and started writing away, jotting down thoughts that were coming to my mind fast and furious.

I filled two or three pages with notes, then I returned to where the other three had gathered, sharing what perceptions they each had been getting. When I joined them, I kept trying to add some of my thoughts about what I’d gotten and written down.

All to no avail.

With the other three going, and LS in high gear, I couldn’t get a word in edgewise.

I kept trying.

And every time I’d start talking, LS would talk over me and start talking as if I hadn’t said anything.

And as can happen, even though we’re the ‘quiet ones’, we can get angry. And sometimes angry enough to speak up. And I reached that point that day.

I finally had enough and opened my mouth and stated my opinion and that I was upset about her inconsideration in not letting me speak.

Oh, she apologized. “But you’re always so quiet. And so, I just keep talking and take over.”

On the way home, in the car with just the two of us, where I could more freely speak and give my opinions and be heard, I jabbered on about LS and my aggravations with her.

“That does it! Next week when we get together, I’m going to be the loud one! I’m even going to make a hat or a T-shirt to wear. It’s going to say ‘I’m the LOUD ONE!’ Watch out, because next week I am not going to shut up. I’m going to dominate the conversation. I’m done being ‘the quiet one’ in this crowd.”

Fortunately, I thought this through a little more and learned my own lesson before the week was out. When I reflected on my interactions in this little group, and thought about who I truly was, I realized that even as much as I wanted to turn things around and be ‘the loud one’, that was not who I was. I was over fifty years old (then, now I’m in my 60s and even wiser), and I was NOT the loud one. I never was. I never will be.

I am the quiet one. Usually. Now one on one I can chatter up a storm. But if the gathering gets larger than two or three people, I usually retreat and while I join in conversations, won’t assert myself or try to take over.

So, yes, when in a group, I am the quiet one. And I needed to recognize that, accept, it and celebrate it as being who I am.

I did buy a hat the following week as I’d threatened.

I did decorate it.

I did wear it to our next outing.

It just said the truth, and not what I thought I was going to mistakenly try to turn myself into.

I don’t wear the hat anymore. But it still hangs proudly in my closet, to remind me of this lesson that I learned about myself.

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