I never lose my temper. Never act out. It’s only recently that I’ve learned to protest if someone cuts in line. Before, I would only keep quiet and smile. I think it was sometime this year… I let a girl use the washroom in Burger King after me for free (you have to insert a 5 SEK coin). A lot happens to people like me. No, let me rephrase; we let a lot of things happen to us. We let it pass “this time” because oh that person probably had a good reason to… mess with us. I don’t swear publicly because… people see you differently then. If it’s not expected of you to do it, and you do it once… they think you’ve lost it.

I was born shy. What do you do with people like that? I was bullied at school and it was a problem that I couldn’t socialize. But did anybody ever help me overcome it? Yet I was the one who was asked to join Friends (a then newborn organization aimed at preventing bullying). Was that the teachers’ way to make up for something? To show them that my “calmness” is something attractive that can be used to oh I don’t know… prevent bullying. LOL. I couldn’t say a word when they did it. Just frown or walk away. Sit in my little corner of the library reading comics.

I don’t know about the place where you live, but in this society… in Sweden… the country that invented the word introversion… here you have to know how to grab your piece of the cake.

Do you think there’s any difference between acting out in rage or being outgoing and forward? I don’t. I think it all boils down to courage, and that the person who does the one may (note the emphasis) also do the other. I can’t do either. All I can do is blog about it because… yeah who’s judging me here?

Is society ever going to stop treating me as an anomaly? Am I always going to be forced to be the type of person I don’t want to be? Just because I can’t forcefully grab a piece of cake does not mean that I don’t have any talent in me whatsoever. It doesn’t mean that one day I won’t feel comfortable to ask for a piece or even go ahead and grab one. It just means that for me it takes time.

I think society thinks that my “problem” is a weakness, that we’re all supposed to overcome at a certain point in life. Those who do it succeed and those who don’t don’t deserve to succeed. But you know after 25 years of struggle – of waiting for those kids to ask me to play with them, of walking with my head down, of letting the words get stuck in my throat, of being rejected, denied, misunderstood – I’ve realized that I disagree. This is not something you overcome easily. This is a problem and it’s not. It doesn’t hamper my potential in any way whatsoever. On the contrary I get more time to listen, to observe… to judge.