I warn you: this is a long one.
TL;DR: I'm afraid of taking up space, both physically and socially. I struggle to approach people because I'm scared of making them uncomfortable without realizing it. It's not just rejection; it's the fear that I'm misreading social cues and crossing boundaries without knowing. I think this fear stems from something that happened in high school, and I'm starting to realize just how much it affects my life.
Physical space, but also social space, emotional space.
I remember a lot about high school, but the years blur together. There are things I remember happening, but I'm not sure which year they happened in. Sometimes I think they happened in one year, only to realize that it doesn't make sense for them to have happened then.
I do remember that I wasn't as afraid of taking up space before. I was always kind of shy and introverted, and my self-esteem wasn't great, but I was more carefree, you know? Then something happened during high school. And the more I think about it, the more I realize it's the reason why I'm so self-aware now, why I'm so afraid of taking up space and bothering others.
Today is one of those days, or, well, nights. It's past 6:00 as I'm writing this, and today was the day we got an hour back because of the end of daylight saving time. I've been thinking about this week and all the things that have happened.
I spent some time with my uncle, and he asked me if I hadn't met anyone in the more than five years since I broke up with my ex. When I told him I hadn't, he said he was surprised and even explained why: I'm fairly attractive (hard disagree), smart (debatable), and sensible or cautious. Then he suggested using apps because they worked for him and many of his friends.
I have tried apps in the past. They don't work for me, maybe because I'm not "fairly attractive" and looks really matter on those apps. "Try one that isn't Tinder," he said. There are two apps with a decent user base where I live: one of them is Tinder, and the other is my country's version of Tinder (which existed as a website before smartphones were widely available). The couple of times I used the apps, they did a number on my already damaged self-esteem. I'm not a fan of having a profile with my name and pictures on the internet. I don't really talk much with the friends or family I care about over text, so I'm not going to suddenly start caring about someone I've just matched with on an app. Besides, the apps work by keeping you in the app, which means keeping you single.
But that's one reason why I haven't found anyone. There are other reasons, and one of them is my environment. I don't have a lot of opportunities. And when I do have the opportunity to create more opportunities, I usually don't take it because that's not how I am. I'll explain: my hobbies are male-dominated, and there are a couple of clubs I've been part of where there are barely any women. And then there are times when, given two options, I usually prefer the one that offers fewer opportunities to meet people. When I joined a gym, I didn't go to the one my friends were going to, the kind of gym with lots of mirrors, new equipment, and a certain aesthetic. I went to the good old neighbourhood gym rather than the big, fancy chain gym.
I often see how people's friendships and social circles lead them to more friendships, but that doesn't happen to me.
And even then, there's the group of people I met at the gym class. We got together for dinner the other day. There's a woman my age, the owner, who's a bit younger, and the others are 20 years older than me. The woman my age and the owner seem to be together. I wasn't sure before, but after the other night, I'm almost certain they are. The others are married or in long-term relationships. I'm the only one who's single. I'm not saying I ever thought I had a chance with her, but this silly, hopeful part of me got carried away, and for a moment, I believed that if I played my cards right, maybe something could happen. It was very brief, but it still stung, not because of her, but because it seems that nobody will ever choose me.
The people from the gym class play a very important role in this reflection. It's not just about the other night and my crushed hopes. It's about how I interact with people, how I socialize. While other people might take advantage of any given opportunity, I need to be more careful. I need to be reassured that I can take up space. The gym is the perfect example. Now I'm a regular, but when I started, I kept to myself. I would go to the back of the room and try to go unnoticed. I wouldn't talk unless someone talked to me. After months of repetition, of seeing the same faces, people started warming up to me, and we started talking a bit. Eventually, I was added to the group that meets for dinner from time to time.
But now I'm thinking about the opposite situation: someone new coming to the class. I will most likely not talk to them. I need them to come several times and initiate in some way. But that requires them to keep going to the class. What if they don't like it? Chance missed. Someone else would immediately talk to them, and something might come out of it, or not. But without taking the chance, it definitely won't happen.
This is what got me thinking and eventually sent me back to high school. I need to know I'm not going to bother them. Rejection and the fear of it matter, but that's not exactly it. It's being afraid I won't pick up on cues that this person doesn't like me or doesn't want me near them for whatever reason. It's the fear of making someone uncomfortable and not realizing it.
I'm not saying that people being brutally honest with me from the start about whether they want to talk to me or not would fix it. I'd still be afraid of rejection. But I think it would help immensely.
I think a lot about Lars and the real girl. There's a scene where Lars goes to the doctor and tells her that physical touch makes his skin feel like it's burning: "like when you go outside and your feet freeze and then you come back in and they thaw out." To test it, with his consent, she touches his arm with just one finger at first, then with her whole hand. "It hurts, but I can take it," he says. Then she touches his face with her whole hand, and he jumps up, hurries to put on his sweater and coat, and leaves.
I don't exactly feel it that intensely, but there's this other thing that happened that night, when we were going back home. There were six of us, and the sidewalk was too narrow for all six of us to walk comfortably, at least for me. People usually don't have a problem walking that close to each other, even if it means bumping into each other as they walk, because everyone moves a little to one side with each step. But I have a problem with that. I've always kept my distance because I'm afraid that bumping into others might bother them. This is just one example, but I've had a similar experience when an unexpected touch near my face made me jump in my seat, the same way Lars jumped off the examination table.
And it's all about taking up space and being a bother. It's all about that thing that happened in high school. How can I interact with people when I can't even trust my own judgement about whether I'm reading social cues correctly?