IgnoredOne
Well-known member
I've frequently preached that others join a club or other organization if they were looking for friendship; and of course, it makes sense logically - similar interests and a context that would allow people to have reason to welcome a stranger.
But I'm not really a member of any club now, not after college, so when I saw the ad for Toastmaster's at my company's cafeteria, I jumped at the opportunity despite some hesitation: practice what you preach, as they say.
The Toastmasters are an organization dedicated to improving the speech and leadership skills of their membership; I assume that the original name came from the toasts that involved the alcoholic variety and not the buttered kind. At some point it evolved into a club, switched from a focus on boasts fortified by intoxication and finally permitted women to join. Truth is, despite the progress I felt I had made from my youthful sociophobia, I still felt something of fear.
I would have to meet new people - I would fail, some part of my mind told me. People would laugh at me, find me weird. The internal critic is a persistant voice, never quite silenced. Eventually it managed to pounce even on the thought that I wouldn't be dressed right and its timing after my shift certainly made things tricky.
But I resolved that I would try; the only concession I gave to that voice was to pick out my best clothes. I remember the fear, the paralyzing fear, the discouraging voice and long ago, I decided that those fears are instead a siren call to courage, an opportunity to grow. So the more I feared, the more I resolved that I had to try.
Getting to the location was something of an adventure, one which I will not retell; suffice to say that it would be a story of its own. Resolve saw me through, on time and with enough to spare to clean up a bit.
Seeing the group only emboldened the voice, immediately. They aren't like me, it struck me. Those other people, as I later discovered, were mostly management - the ones that struck me immediately were exquisitely dressed with dress shirts and leather shoes, or the women in their heels and three-pieces. They seemed somehow more attractive, and all the more intimidating for that. There was one I noticed in particular: a sharp-faced brunette with tinges of auburn clad in tailored black with stilleto heels and a natural eloquence about her gestures that made me feel clumsy just for existing.
I didn't belong here, I would fail, the voice told me; far better for me to go already.
No matter, I told myself. I would go - if it didn't work out, I would have been proud of the courage to have tried. I had done my best, done my due diligence, and prepared where I could; now came where fates intervened in the meager lives of men.
I knew that I could walk in quietly and shyly, edging toward the back and sitting without conversation. I would not let myself have that luxury - to remove my opportunity to challenge my courage. I made sure that I entered from the front, and immediately the sharp-faced brunette turned to glance at me. I had made myself known, intruded in that invisible personal sphere.
There is, I think, approximately one and a half second after you get acknowledged that you have to decide on what your plan is. Do you intend to speak and be social? Then talk. Do you intend to pass by and sit quietly? Smile and pass. Any other action somehow becomes awkward: I remember my brother who had a tendency to randomly stare or glance, easily becoming creepy. I remember my old tendency to rush by without a smile, recognized instead as hostile.
I chose the hardest path, of course - I immediately tried to talk to her, and given how close she was to the podium, it was little surprise that she was one of the organizers. She seemed more than pleased by my presence and given how close she sat to the front, when I settled besides her, I realized that I had forced myself to sit in front center. This too had meaning; no more could I avoid being glanced, or be selected for answers by the speaker; furthermore, I would be the focus of attention by the speaker.
Inside of me, I know that I could feel that strange slight sore under my skin, that rememberance of fear and the panic that I once had. Then too, however, I was now facing it, confronting it rather than retreating and the thought filled me with pride.
I will not bore you with the minute details of the speakers, save that I learned everything I wanted. Indeed, I /was/ an outsider - everyone else was in management and I was not only in a different department, but actually in a sister company. But that, instead, gave me the chance to be liasion for the newly founded club to my company.
As I left, I passed by the group of those fine and graceful souls that had so intimidated me, and I made sure that I would at least meet them. That man I rather envied with his physique and bespoke clothes, but moreover his easy manner, was Jared. The more quiet and smaller redhead was Laura. And that sharp-faced black-clad siren was Ciael; an unsuual name, and an interesting name.
They were all, I realized, young executives. And now I had a direct connection to network with them. Courage does bring dividends and fortune does favor the bold.
I remember the scared boy I was. I love him still, but he is safe now, within me and needs not be scared no more. I shall keep him well.
But I'm not really a member of any club now, not after college, so when I saw the ad for Toastmaster's at my company's cafeteria, I jumped at the opportunity despite some hesitation: practice what you preach, as they say.
The Toastmasters are an organization dedicated to improving the speech and leadership skills of their membership; I assume that the original name came from the toasts that involved the alcoholic variety and not the buttered kind. At some point it evolved into a club, switched from a focus on boasts fortified by intoxication and finally permitted women to join. Truth is, despite the progress I felt I had made from my youthful sociophobia, I still felt something of fear.
I would have to meet new people - I would fail, some part of my mind told me. People would laugh at me, find me weird. The internal critic is a persistant voice, never quite silenced. Eventually it managed to pounce even on the thought that I wouldn't be dressed right and its timing after my shift certainly made things tricky.
But I resolved that I would try; the only concession I gave to that voice was to pick out my best clothes. I remember the fear, the paralyzing fear, the discouraging voice and long ago, I decided that those fears are instead a siren call to courage, an opportunity to grow. So the more I feared, the more I resolved that I had to try.
Getting to the location was something of an adventure, one which I will not retell; suffice to say that it would be a story of its own. Resolve saw me through, on time and with enough to spare to clean up a bit.
Seeing the group only emboldened the voice, immediately. They aren't like me, it struck me. Those other people, as I later discovered, were mostly management - the ones that struck me immediately were exquisitely dressed with dress shirts and leather shoes, or the women in their heels and three-pieces. They seemed somehow more attractive, and all the more intimidating for that. There was one I noticed in particular: a sharp-faced brunette with tinges of auburn clad in tailored black with stilleto heels and a natural eloquence about her gestures that made me feel clumsy just for existing.
I didn't belong here, I would fail, the voice told me; far better for me to go already.
No matter, I told myself. I would go - if it didn't work out, I would have been proud of the courage to have tried. I had done my best, done my due diligence, and prepared where I could; now came where fates intervened in the meager lives of men.
I knew that I could walk in quietly and shyly, edging toward the back and sitting without conversation. I would not let myself have that luxury - to remove my opportunity to challenge my courage. I made sure that I entered from the front, and immediately the sharp-faced brunette turned to glance at me. I had made myself known, intruded in that invisible personal sphere.
There is, I think, approximately one and a half second after you get acknowledged that you have to decide on what your plan is. Do you intend to speak and be social? Then talk. Do you intend to pass by and sit quietly? Smile and pass. Any other action somehow becomes awkward: I remember my brother who had a tendency to randomly stare or glance, easily becoming creepy. I remember my old tendency to rush by without a smile, recognized instead as hostile.
I chose the hardest path, of course - I immediately tried to talk to her, and given how close she was to the podium, it was little surprise that she was one of the organizers. She seemed more than pleased by my presence and given how close she sat to the front, when I settled besides her, I realized that I had forced myself to sit in front center. This too had meaning; no more could I avoid being glanced, or be selected for answers by the speaker; furthermore, I would be the focus of attention by the speaker.
Inside of me, I know that I could feel that strange slight sore under my skin, that rememberance of fear and the panic that I once had. Then too, however, I was now facing it, confronting it rather than retreating and the thought filled me with pride.
I will not bore you with the minute details of the speakers, save that I learned everything I wanted. Indeed, I /was/ an outsider - everyone else was in management and I was not only in a different department, but actually in a sister company. But that, instead, gave me the chance to be liasion for the newly founded club to my company.
As I left, I passed by the group of those fine and graceful souls that had so intimidated me, and I made sure that I would at least meet them. That man I rather envied with his physique and bespoke clothes, but moreover his easy manner, was Jared. The more quiet and smaller redhead was Laura. And that sharp-faced black-clad siren was Ciael; an unsuual name, and an interesting name.
They were all, I realized, young executives. And now I had a direct connection to network with them. Courage does bring dividends and fortune does favor the bold.
I remember the scared boy I was. I love him still, but he is safe now, within me and needs not be scared no more. I shall keep him well.
