I was never very good at introductions. In person, I mean.
The situation was very typical. I’m six or seven years old. My parents invite a friend over, and I retreat to my room trying so hard to be absolutely quiet. But I know I’m in danger once I hear Mom say, “Oh yes, you haven’t met my third daughter! She’s probably in her room. Sydney? Would you come out please?”
I’m left with no choice. I check the mirror to see if I look half decent, put on a smile, write up a small speech along the lines of “Nice to meet you!” in my head, and then venture outside of my room as if I hadn’t even noticed a guest was over because I was so occupied and I am so sorry!
Would I say I don’t enjoy the company of others? Not exactly. I love people. People are great. Humans. People. Interaction. Fantastic. But back then, I didn’t really have the choice to diagnose my own problem before my cousins decided I was…
According to them, the main symptoms included frequent giggles (esp. in situations that are really not humorous at all) and an immense vocabulary of “um”, “uh”, and “I don’t know” followed by more giggles.
Yes, at times I was hurt by this label because even when I tried to say something other than said vocabulary, I was often just laughed off as the forever awkward third child trying to sound more intelligent, or “lao qi” if said in Chinese. But I suppose they were right, since I still haven’t exactly grown out of it.
So yes, I love people, but I hate how I act around most of them. Therefore I think a more suiting term for me is
That’s me. And that’s my introduction for you. I hope it was a little better than what you would have received when I was seven years old…