I So Wanted To be The Shy, Retiring Wallflower...

There is a passage in Elizabeth Gilbert’s book, Eat Pray Love, that talks about wanting to be “the quiet girl with thick, dark hair”, precisely because the main character is none of those things. 

It’s about thinking that if only you could be a bit more like someone else - in all the ways that you are not - then surely everything would be that much easier, sparkly and fun-filled. 

That passage struck a huge chord with me because it’s something that I’ve long felt myself.

For I’ve always wanted to be the elusive wallflower: fragile, meek and mysterious. 

Firstly, because I haven't ever and never will embody those qualities - I’m pretty much the exact opposite.

And secondly, because it's always felt like I've been made to feel shame around the qualities that I do embody - I’ve often felt too much, too needy, just too ‘there’.

• “We hear rather too much of Lavinia’s voice” they wrote about me in my first school report (aged 3 and 3/4).

• Aged 6, I remember finding out that I’d been invited on a play date only in order to ‘encourage’ the other girl to venture out of her shell. 

• When I was 11, I was told to “give others a chance to answer the question” (when I’d only put my hand up in the first place because I felt sorry for the teacher to whom no one else was bothering to respond).

So it was confusing: I was either made to feel like being too visible was annoying or a useful tool for others’ self-development.

Neither of which made me feel great. 

Neediness (as in having too many needs) is a wound that my inner child has continued to nurse.

And it flares up most strongly when I meet new people and the desire to be the “quiet girl” is at its strongest.

I fear that if I’m myself, they will find me too domineering, opinionated, and vocal. And the core fear beneath that: I will be rejected and alone.

Because this was the belief that I created about myself when my needs were met with indifference or exasperation as a child.

And it’s only through having reparented my inner child through these memories that I now care a lot less about what other people think. Because:

• My inner child knows that she doesn’t need validation from others - she has her inner parent to do that

• I know that I can’t manage other people’s opinions of me - they will think what they think based on their own set of wounds and stories

This reassuring inner parent reminds my faltering inner 3-year-old, my ashamed inner 6-year-old and my defeated inner 11-year-old that it’s ok to have something to say and that it’s ok not to be shy.  

My set of traits and needs might not feel acceptable to everyone. But that doesn’t mean I have to hide or try to change them.

Just as you, my beautiful mama, have are your unique set of traits and needs. And no one should make you feel like you need to be different or better.  

Never forget that you attract those that will nourish you most by being your authentic self. 

So to those with whom this resonated, welcome to my tribe!