Just Because Someone Is Shy Doesn’t Necessarily Imply That They’re Quiet

They can be quite loud if they want to be

As a child, growing up, I was quite shy. I hardly said a word when my parents, adult relatives, and others were around. I was very quiet in school, at least when the teachers weren’t looking. I had to be prodded to go into our neighborhood grocery store for a loaf of bread, even though the grocer was a close friend of the family. I didn’t particularly like to be around people that much.

I remember one day, my favorite uncle came to visit and brought me downtown to buy me a new sports jacket. I remember this well, because I usually wore hand-me-downs, from my older brothers. They both were a bit conservative when it came to clothes. They loved gray, brown, dark blue, and tan-colored clothes. How boring!

I was so proud of myself when I picked out a new jacket that I absolutely loved. But, when I got home with it my mother had a shit fit and yelled at my uncle for letting me buy it. Both of my brothers laughed their asses off, as it was the funniest thing they had ever seen. My beautiful new sports coat was a bit colorful. A yellow, blue, green, and purple plaid sport coat!

I found a way to be noticed, without saying a word. From that moment on, I would let vivid colors do most of my talking. Red became my favorite color, for sneakers, hats, shirts, and yes, even cars. I also became partial to bright orange and yellow.

As I grew older I became less shy and frugal with my words. In high school, I was like a different person. I talked a lot and actively voiced my opinions, to the chagrin of the nuns and priests who taught me. All through high school and many years in college, I craved the attention and company of people — the more the merrier. My love for vibrant colors went unchanged, however.

Now that I’m an old fart, I have sort of reverted to my childhood self. I don’t care to be around crowds or even large family groups. I go to parties, neighborhood picnics, and family gatherings, but after a while, I’ve had enough. I want to go home and spend time with my husband and my dog.

I may be older, but my choice of colors has remained the same. Some “friends” have said I should dress my age, in reaction to seeing me dressed in a red jacket, with an orange sweatshirt, and bright red sneakers, driving my red car. Screw them. I didn’t give a damn what people thought about the way I dressed when I was 12, so why should I give a flying fuck what they think at 75?

So just because a person is shy, or introverted don’t think for a moment that they’re not able to make a hell of a lot of noise. They can if they want.