Not the life and soul

I’m not the life and soul of the party. I don’t know just the right thing to say when at a cocktail party. I envy those who seem to have a store of one-liners which break the ice and start the conversation rolling. I am like a fish out of water, balancing a drink or a canapé in one hand, standing around making small talk. But I am a good listener, and once I get to know you around the dinner table or over a cup of coffee, I can ramble on as well as the next person.

My husband and daughter emit some kind of radar that draws people to them and they engage with ease, beaming in the afterglow of the interaction. People remember meeting them. On the other hand, I am always being told at parent-teacher meetings that my son has much to contribute, but is far too quiet in class, or he could be having more fun if he relaxed and opened up.

As a young boy, my son earned a reputation for himself as being a choosy playmate – teaching me to consult with him before I made any play date arrangements. “I need to rest today,” he would say, “I had a friend yesterday.” I learned to respect that – to give him his space to be by himself. After all, I could identify with that. We are both introverts and don’t need rescuing to come “out of our shells”. We are having fun, just doing it quietly.

At the bookshop last week, I spotted a book on how to make small talk; I picked it up, turned it over, read the back cover, and riffled through the pages. I was tempted to buy it. Maybe I do need to know what to say when introduced to the Prince of this or the President of that – to make a memorable impression. I walked around the aisles with it in my hand before reluctantly putting it back. I knew deep down that this was not something I could learn from a book. But, hey! There must be enough people with the same “problem” for someone to write a book, right?

Sometimes you have to accept the things you cannot change.  But I am free for coffee...