Now and Then

A new friend, an old friend, and I were out one night recently, and the topic of shyness came up.

My new friend was surprised to hear that, during my first two years of high school, I regularly went the entire school day without speaking to anyone.

Yes. Seriously.

Like many introverts, I wasn't antisocial (I wanted to talk to others), stuck up, uninterested, or uninteresting (although I thought I was). I just was too shy to speak. I started coming out of my shell midway through sophomore year, and developed some friendships during my junior and senior years.

And these days, it's not an issue at all.

In fact, my new friend couldn't believe that I was describing myself. Though I may not be the most gregarious person she knows, I'm certainly not afraid to talk to friends, strangers, anyone.

She looked to my old friend - who has known me since high school - for confirmation. And she got it. No, I wasn't exaggerating or making it up.

Since that conversation, I've thought about how people change over time. Depending on when you knew me during my lifetime, you might have a different view of my personality, tastes, and convictions than someone who knew me at a different time in my life. Because those things, well, change. And the same goes for you, of course.

Being a mom of three, I can't help but look at my children as sociological laboratory rats, so naturally I study them. {OK, "rats" sounds a bit distasteful, but I mean it in the most affectionate way...} And I wonder how much of my kids I really know. How much of what I see in them now will stay with them through adulthood? And what, of all those invisible traits that even we, their parents, can't yet detect, will become essential to their core being later in life?

Guess we'll find out in a decade or two or three.

Someday, they'll have a laugh over cocktails with friends as they share stories about whom they used to be. But whom are they destined to become?