Question:
On Tue, 01 Dec 1998 19:19:48 -0600, Laura Miller <mill1…@tc.umn.edu> wrote: >> I think I can,thanks to an overprotective mother. >> It may sound cruel,but the best thing she did for me was,to die… >> R.M. >I hate to admit it but there were a few times I’ve wished my parents were >dead too….
I should have explained this better. It’s just that (looking back on my life) if she was still alive, I most probably never would have done anything about my shyness at all.I would still be living at home with her. It was like being pushed out of the nest,and,like it or not,being forced to fly on my own wings. This turned out not to be so bad after all… R.M. rmylle(at)village(dot)uunet(dot)be http://www.geocities.com/SouthBeach/Sands/3655/index.html ICQ:15580692
Response:
>There are positives though to having overprotective parents. I suppose >you don’t get into trouble as much but then again you are denied the >experience of exploring things. My overprotective mom hates to see me >suffer and she’s always worried about little things like whether I’ve fed >my fish or whether or not I have enough groceries. My mom comes up to my >apartment about twice a month and she’s more than willing to buy groceries >for me with her own money. [snip]
That sounds like my mom… only I’m still in high school. I feel like I have no privacy. — wakefi…@hotmail.com
Response:
Robert Mylle wrote: > On Mon, 30 Nov 1998 22:24:17 -0600, Laura Miller <mill1…@tc.umn.edu> > wrote: > >I thought I’d take an informal survey here: how many of you can > >attribute at least some of your shyness to parental influence? > I think I can,thanks to an overprotective mother. > It may sound cruel,but the best thing she did for me was,to die… > R.M. > rmylle(at)village(dot)uunet(dot)be > http://www.geocities.com/SouthBeach/Sands/3655/index.html > ICQ:15580692
I hate to admit it but there were a few times I’ve wished my parents were dead too. But I had a dream that my dad had cancer and only had a month to live. It was devastating. I guess it means that deep down I know I don’t want my parents to die. There are positives though to having overprotective parents. I suppose you don’t get into trouble as much but then again you are denied the experience of exploring things. My overprotective mom hates to see me suffer and she’s always worried about little things like whether I’ve fed my fish or whether or not I have enough groceries. My mom comes up to my apartment about twice a month and she’s more than willing to buy groceries for me with her own money. My parents are quite generous with their money and when I needed something were more than glad to buy it for me. Within reason of course. Sometimes I’ll get kind of paranoid when she comes to visit my apartment. Shes more than willing to help me clean up my apartment. She’ll say, I’ll dust the shelves for you if you’d like or I’ll water your plants and feed your fish. If a picture on the wall is a little crooked, she straighten it. Sometimes she is too intrusive though. I know she’s trying to be helpful and improve my apartment but its like she mentions every little thing that may need fixing. Its annoying. If I wanted her help I’ll ask. I don’t need her to do my dishes or vacuum my floor. I can support myself. I’m a little messy but I’m no pig. On a side note. My car is broke down. I think it needs a new battery but I’m not sure. I want to call my parents for advice but I hesistate to. I know how they’ll get. They’ll make a huge fuss about it. Then give me a big lecture about what I should and shouldn’t be doing with my car. And then every time they come to see me, they’ll be asking, how’s you car? Does your battery work okay? Why don’t you let me check it? If I call my parents, they’d be glad to straighten out the problem for me, even paying for the repair for me. But since I don’t want them bugging me about it, I’d rather just take care of the problem myself and pay for a new battery with my own money. Laura
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- Hide quoted text — Show quoted text -Kris wrote: > Tom Castelli wrote: > > – My friends going on ski trips and my parents again not signing > > the permission forms: "your father broke his leg ice skating in 1974…" > > What the heck does that have to do with how I would do skiing? Two > > different things — and just because my father’s a clutz doesn’t mean > > I am… > > – I wanted to go paintballing about two weeks before my 16th birthday > > and if you were under 16 there was a permission form… > > – A trip to Montreal with my French class in 11th grade, "No, it’s a > > foreign country." Come on mom, it’s Canada, not Iraq. > > – My friends from high school go into Times Square every year on New > > Year’s… And to this day, "NO IT’S TOO CROWDED YOU’LL GET > > MUGGED OR SHOT!!" (and yet, she has no qualms about me going > > into NYC on any other day, when it’s equally likely that I’d get mugged > > or shot… go figure) > That sounds just like my parents. In high school they warned me never to ride > my mtn. bike in the woods because wolves would attack me. I’ve seen exactly one > wolf and it was far more scared of me than I of it. They also warn me never to > run during deer season because hunters will mistake me for a deer and shoot me. > Mistaking a person for a deer, what kinda dumbass would do that? Don’t > tresspass, they warn because some angry landowner will shoot me. Around here > you *have* to tresspass because all the land is privately owned. I’ve > tresspassed several thousand times in my life and have only been shot at > *once*. I have a better chance at being hit by a car while crossing the road > than shot while tresspassing. They also tell me I’ll kill the dogs by running > them too far.
My parents were kind of adamant about me living all alone in a big city (Minneapolis). My parents grew up on farms as a child and then lived in the suburbs all their adult lives. They’re worried about the crime rate and stuff like that. They’re afraid I’m going to get raped or mugged. While its true that the crime rate is higher in big cities, they’re just downright paranoid about it and wonder how I can appear so unafraid about it.. They’ve never lived in a big city so they fear the unknown. > In addition they hate for me to meet people off the internet. In their own > demented view everyone on the internet is really a 40 year pedophile > masquerading as a hot young chick. And business transactions off the net? > Forget that. Even if I can find a used item from a reputable Ebay dealer they > won’t allow me to buy it. However I’m not a total weenie. I buy the item > anyways and have it shipped to my gf’s house.
My parents don’t really approve of meeting people off the internet either. They are afraid of things like chatrooms and even some newsgroups. And they would never order anything off the internet. Its good I live alone because I order a ton of stuff off the net. I’m too lazy to shop and my car is broke down half the time. I’ve met people off the internet before. They’re just like everybody else! – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text -> — > Kris > "Books ain’t no good. A guy needs somebody–to be near him. A guy goes nuts if > he ain’t got nobody. Don’t make no difference who the guy is, long’s he’s with > you. I tell ya, I tell ya a guy gets too lonely an’ he gets sick." > -John Steinbeck "Of Mice and Men"
Response:
Kris wrote: > MJJTUNES wrote: >> For quite some time, I felt like my parents, especially my mother, >> were sort of >> overly protective, to the point of being repressive. >> I wanted to join the Boy Scouts, but I was discouraged from that. I >> was not >> allowed to play with kids from a certain family in the neighborhood, >> because >> their mother was in a wheelchair!
My parents rarely flat out said no but If I wanted something that went against their wishes, they’d send me on a guilt trip. I hated feeling guilty so sometimes I’d just cave in. >> Even today, at 45 years of age, I still feel "typecast" by my family >> of origin. >> If I try to step a little too far outside the image they have of me, >> my plans >> are met with skepticism. Like what you’ve mentioned, I hesitate to >> speak at >> family gatherings about anything new I’m doing. The same old dire >> warnings are >> so predictable! And so, many times I have to converse like a >> politician issuing >> prepared statements.
Whenever I talk to my parents about something. Its always like that. My parents expect me to have all this proof and to back up every statement I make. Its a good thing I can support myself enough to live alone. I’m a grad student so I’m not exactly rich. My freedom would be truly stifled if I lived with my parents. > I can relate. Personally I was raised in a horribly repressive > Christian fundamentalist home. My mother is a Pentecostal. If you’ve > seen "The Apostle", then you’ve got a good idea what the Pentecostal > faith entails. To make matters worse my mother suffers from severe > persecution complex. She thinks she and her sister are the only > "good" Christians and everyone else are "wolves in sheep’s clothing". > She accuses everyone imaginable of putting "curses" on her and blames > everything on "demon spirits" and the coming apocalypse. Her paranoia > prevents her from attending a church for more than a few months. > After that she becomes convinced the congregation is out to get her > and she moves onto another unsuspecting church.
My parents raised me catholic and I had to go through all that business about going to church every sunday and taking religion classes until I’m confirmed. Now that I’m older I find myself questioning religious beliefs. One time I told mom, I shouldn’t be forced to go to church every Sunday when you can’t even prove God exists. And mom was so outraged, yelling WELL THEN YOU CAN JUST GO TO HELL. I never brought up the issue again. So even at age 23 when I go to see my parents, I end up being dragged along to church against my will. > My father is a misanthrope like Chad from "In the Company of Men". A > business associate will call him on the phone and he’ll treat him like > his best friend. Then once he hangs up he’ll belittle him. Both are > so xenophobic they make Pat Buchanan seem like an internationalist.
My parents are like that too. They try to be all nicey-nice to people they don’t know very well because they want to be liked. But as soon as these people are gone they’ll criticize them like you would not believe. > My parents horribly warped me in my formative years. For instance, > they think cursing and especially the gd word is the worst sin > imaginable. This meant no films for me as a kid. If I dared rent a > movie with even moderately bad language I’d never hear the end of it. > The only thing worse than cursing in their minds are –ohmygod– > nipples! What makes this all the more hypocritical is they see > nothing wrong with Chuck Norris breaking someone’s neck on TBS. As > long as he doesn’t see any nipples and all his curse words are bleeped > out everything is okay. How bizarre!
My mom let me watch most movies within reason. But she was really strict about swearing even though she always did it herself. > As for music, my father hates it. Whenever we drove somewhere growing > up we just sat in the car in silence. My mother only listens to Jimmy > Swaggart-esque Christian music and thinks everythhing else is > "demonic".
My parents like music but they were always opposed to a lot of the popular stuff. I remember several instances where my father would just storm into my room and shut my music off without even asking me politely to turn it down. Several times I’d be riding in the car with my family and my favorite song would be on. Of course it would be one my dad hated so he’d just flip the channel without even asking me first. Then he’d get really sarcastic and say, "You know why I changed the channel? Because I HATE that #*%ing song!!!" He didn’t have much respect for people with tastes different from his own. After awhile, I just gave up on my interest in music. I liked singing along to music but eventually stopped altogether because they never thought I was on key. I recall several instances when I wanted a particular tape or CD for my birthday but I didn’t ask for it because I was afraid my tastes would be ridiculed. I find it difficult to reveal my tastes in things like movies and music unless its someone I know and trust. They don’t have to like the same things I do but they must RESPECT it. Unfortunately there are too many people out there who readily call anything they don’t like as garbage. > Needless to say being discouraged from listening to music and watching > films severely isolated me from other kids. I finally started > listening to music at 15 and watching films in college. The reason I > am so passionate about both music and film now is because I know all > too well what it is like to do without. On the bright side there are > so many films I haven’t seen that I can literally watch a classic film > like "Taxi Driver" or "Fellini’s 8 1/2" everyday and not have to worry > about watching mediocre fare. The same thing applies to music as > well.
I like alot of the popular stuff but I have kind of unusual tastes in music and movies. Its funny but I don’t mind telling people about some lesser known music artist or movie unlike more popular stuff. Chances are the other person hasn’t heard of it and they can’t criticize what they don’t know. I also don’t like reading reviews of music and movies. I prefer to go by my gut instinct in deciding what to watch or listen to. – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text -> Laura > —
Response:
On Mon, 30 Nov 1998 22:24:17 -0600, Laura Miller <mill1…@tc.umn.edu> wrote: >I thought I’d take an informal survey here: how many of you can >attribute at least some of your shyness to parental influence?
I think I can,thanks to an overprotective mother. It may sound cruel,but the best thing she did for me was,to die… R.M. rmylle(at)village(dot)uunet(dot)be http://www.geocities.com/SouthBeach/Sands/3655/index.html ICQ:15580692
Response:
Tom Castelli wrote: > – My friends going on ski trips and my parents again not signing > the permission forms: "your father broke his leg ice skating in 1974…" > What the heck does that have to do with how I would do skiing? Two > different things — and just because my father’s a clutz doesn’t mean > I am… > – I wanted to go paintballing about two weeks before my 16th birthday > and if you were under 16 there was a permission form… > – A trip to Montreal with my French class in 11th grade, "No, it’s a > foreign country." Come on mom, it’s Canada, not Iraq. > – My friends from high school go into Times Square every year on New > Year’s… And to this day, "NO IT’S TOO CROWDED YOU’LL GET > MUGGED OR SHOT!!" (and yet, she has no qualms about me going > into NYC on any other day, when it’s equally likely that I’d get mugged > or shot… go figure)
That sounds just like my parents. In high school they warned me never to ride my mtn. bike in the woods because wolves would attack me. I’ve seen exactly one wolf and it was far more scared of me than I of it. They also warn me never to run during deer season because hunters will mistake me for a deer and shoot me. Mistaking a person for a deer, what kinda dumbass would do that? Don’t tresspass, they warn because some angry landowner will shoot me. Around here you *have* to tresspass because all the land is privately owned. I’ve tresspassed several thousand times in my life and have only been shot at *once*. I have a better chance at being hit by a car while crossing the road than shot while tresspassing. They also tell me I’ll kill the dogs by running them too far. In addition they hate for me to meet people off the internet. In their own demented view everyone on the internet is really a 40 year pedophile masquerading as a hot young chick. And business transactions off the net? Forget that. Even if I can find a used item from a reputable Ebay dealer they won’t allow me to buy it. However I’m not a total weenie. I buy the item anyways and have it shipped to my gf’s house. — Kris "Books ain’t no good. A guy needs somebody–to be near him. A guy goes nuts if he ain’t got nobody. Don’t make no difference who the guy is, long’s he’s with you. I tell ya, I tell ya a guy gets too lonely an’ he gets sick." -John Steinbeck "Of Mice and Men"
Response:
Laura Miller wrote: > I thought I’d take an informal survey here: how many of you can > attribute at least some of your shyness to parental influence? As a
My mother is like that. Always trying to control what I do, wanting me to keep the status quo, always squelching my intents to do new things. It’s gotten to the point where I won’t tell my mother if I’m trying something new (e.g. joined a new club, etc.) unless I’m doing it to specifically annoy her. My father on the other hand, is not like this at all, but mom always tended to hold the dominating role in family decisions, especially if they involved me… I remember: – I wanted to join the chorus in 6th grade but my mother said I couldn’t do that and band at the same time and thus refused to sign the necessary forms… – My friends going on ski trips and my parents again not signing the permission forms: "your father broke his leg ice skating in 1974…" What the heck does that have to do with how I would do skiing? Two different things — and just because my father’s a clutz doesn’t mean I am… – I wanted to go paintballing about two weeks before my 16th birthday and if you were under 16 there was a permission form… – A trip to Montreal with my French class in 11th grade, "No, it’s a foreign country." Come on mom, it’s Canada, not Iraq. – My friends from high school go into Times Square every year on New Year’s… And to this day, "NO IT’S TOO CROWDED YOU’LL GET MUGGED OR SHOT!!" (and yet, she has no qualms about me going into NYC on any other day, when it’s equally likely that I’d get mugged or shot… go figure) I am 20 years old, a junior in college, and I am quite frankly sick and tired of this kind of treatment from my mother. I went home for Thanksgiving Break last week, and all of a sudden I’m too skinny, I need a haircut, and I should ditch all my college friends for new ones. Please. She would rather hand-select all of my friends rather than having me choose friends who make me happy when I’m around them. I never hear any positive commentary from my mother except in academic realms. Like if I come home after a good time out with friends, she’ll ask me how things went and I’ll say I had a really good time, we did such-and-such and I really enjoyed it. The response is not "I’m glad you enjoyed yourself," but is always something negative like, "Why didn’t you go do X instead?" At times I am convinced that the only reason I did so well academically speaking is that it was the only area where I could get any praise whatsoever from her. So great. There’s no happy medium, I want the happy medium. I’m at an Ivy League school (academic extreme), with little social skills (social extreme) if any at all. All I want is to be normal. I’d give up the frivolous rich bastard academic snob lifestyle in an instant if it meant I could be socially normal. Don’t get me wrong. I’m proud of myself and happy to be here, I just have to struggle to find and keep friends because of shyness resulting from that kind of a lifestyle. I don’t know my mother’s behavior contributes to my shyness, but it definately has an effect on me, and that effect is just to piss me off. If being shy is a nature vs. nurture argument I’d have to say that both affected me. My honest opinion is that I was more affected by growing up in an "affluent area" (since the parents get pissed when I say "rich bastard town") with Muffy and Buffy for neighbors, I don’t have any brothers or sisters nor close family members around my age. Although I went to a so-called "public" high school, it was still a haven for rich bastard assholes. Everyone had their own stupid cliques, none of which I fit into. The only reason I had any friends is because social groups tended to be stratified academically — the kids in honors and AP classes were *forced* to be friends with each other merely because we were shoved down each others’ throats for six years. None of us have a single thing in common. When I got to college, during my freshman year I hung out with the first people I met because I didn’t know there was any other way. Sophomore year I made the friends which I have now, and I’m proud of myself because for the first time in my life I was able to pick friends who I like to be around, who share common interests and basically we can have fun together. And my mother turns around and disapproves of them. -Me — E-mail or Usenet News Post from: Tom Castelli ( tjc13 AT cornell DOT edu ) 3596 Dickson Hall ( homepage http://i.am/TC_KMA ) Cornell University ( hence the "cornell.edu" in my e-mail ) Ithaca, NY 14853-2401 ( ICQ # 3165211 ) [607] 253-0250 ( Engineering College, CS major, Class of 2000 )
Response:
On Mon, 30 Nov 1998, Laura Miller wrote: > I thought I’d take an informal survey here: how many of you can > attribute at least some of your shyness to parental influence?
Add one for me. -Eric
Response:
I think I can attribute some of my shyness to my parents, but indirectly. My parents are wonderful and have always been totally supportive of EVERYTHING I’ve done or tried to do. Like when I was in high school and I wanted to try out for the district band, my music teacher thought I shouldn’t because I guess she thought that I wasn’t good enough, and instead of telling me told my parents. But they still supported me and I ended up auditioning and getting in. Same thing with college, with a lot of things that I did that people thought that I couldn’t or wouldn’t do. But the reason being shy has anything to do with my parents is that they are both pretty shy. So my father only has one friend from work and my mother has a couple that she sees outside of school every so often, but there were never big social things at my house. Usually my parents do things with my uncles, so everything is pretty family based. And my parents, although not unfriendly, usually have little inclination to talk to strangers in the grocery line or things like that. So I think didn’t have that many examples, as a child, about how to be social outside of my immediate and extended family. Having such a close family has its advantages, because I have a lot of freedom but also I know that anything I do will be supported by them, so I think I have gotten a lot of confidence in other areas from that. And unlike some of my friends here at school, I actually enjoy going home and relaxing and getting away for a little while. Oh, and I was never teased at school except once on the bus in sixth grade because I wouldn’t talk, but I just ignored them and they stopped. But I think some of shyness might also be biologically based because I remember at the age of three going to nursery school and refusing to sing any of the songs or talk to anyone or participate in the "who stole the cookie from the cookie jar" game, no matter how much the teachers cajoled me. Oh well. I guess I was a very willful and stubborn child. I probably still am. Prudence In article <36636F70.E3BE6…@tc.umn.edu>, Laura Miller <mill1…@tc.umn.edu> wrote: – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text -> I thought I’d take an informal survey here: how many of you can > attribute at least some of your shyness to parental influence? As a > young child I wasn’t that shy at all. In fact I was eager to just pour > myself into whatever activity. I wanted to try anything and > everything. The problem is my parents always squelched my enthusiams. > If I got excited about some movie or T.V. show, they’d always respond: > Oh, it was kind of stupid actually. If I wanted to join some club or > sports team, they’d respond: I don’t think you’ll like it or you won’t > be very good at it or won’t have time for anything else or its too > expensive, etc. When I was little, I’d go prancing around the house > singing my favorite song when my parents would respond "Just settle > down" or "Your singings way off key". I remember back in junior high > when I wanted to join the choir and my parents tried to talk me out of > it. They thought my singing was horrible and that I’d make a total > idiot of myself. A couple of times my parents would joke about how > clumsy I was and how I was unathletic and there was nothing I could do > about it because its an inherited thing. One of the worst memories I > had was registering for high school classes. I had a good sense I who I > was and what I wanted to take but it was a painful experience trying to > get my mom to approve of my choices. During my freshman year, I wanted > to take art as an elective and my mom said "You’re gonna waste a whole > year of school taking a class you’re NOT going to like anyway and you’re > not going to go into as a career. Its very impractical and unwise." > Reluctantly she gave in eventually and I took the art classes. I found > out that art isn’t really my thing but at least I got to find out for > myself. My parents never gave me enough opportunities to just let me > find out for myself. There were other times when I wanted to take all > the advanced academic courses. I was pretty confident of my academic > abilities. It was one area I was good at and I loved a good > intellectual challenge. But my mom wasn’t so sure if I could handle the > rigor of courses like A.P. biology or advanced chemistry. Once again > she reluctantly gave in and I showed her by getting A’s in these courses > and eventually going on to double major in biology and chemistry, > graduading magna cum laude! The worst memory by far though is when the > Spanish club was going to go on a ski trip. I was thrilled. I had > wanted to go skiing for the longest time yet never had the opportunity. > But my mom refused to sign the permission slip. She said, "You’ve never > skiied before. You’ll make a fool of yourself. You’ll break a leg" On > the day of the ski trip, I cried and cried alone in my room. All the > other club members were going but me. Most haven’t skiied before but > that couldn’t convince mom to change her mind. I couldn’t try skiing > until college where I didn’t have to worry about permission slips. I > think the combination of my parents’ (mom in particular) > overprotectiveness and being teased by the kids at school is what made > me shy. > I’m 23 now and much less shy than I was as a teenager but I’m > uncomfortable telling my parents about new things I want to try- whether > its a new job I’m seeking after or a new relationship or even I new > hobby I want to start up because of the bad experiences I’ve had in this > area. I’m very close to my parents and I value the fact that I get > along with them on good terms but there’s so much of my inner self that > they don’t know about me. I’d like to be able to tell them anything and > everything without the risk of being ridiculed. > Laura
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Response:
MJJTUNES wrote: > For quite some time, I felt like my parents, especially my mother, were sort of > overly protective, to the point of being repressive. > I wanted to join the Boy Scouts, but I was discouraged from that. I was not > allowed to play with kids from a certain family in the neighborhood, because > their mother was in a wheelchair! > Even today, at 45 years of age, I still feel "typecast" by my family of origin. > If I try to step a little too far outside the image they have of me, my plans > are met with skepticism. Like what you’ve mentioned, I hesitate to speak at > family gatherings about anything new I’m doing. The same old dire warnings are > so predictable! And so, many times I have to converse like a politician issuing > prepared statements.
I can relate. Personally I was raised in a horribly repressive Christian fundamentalist home. My mother is a Pentecostal. If you’ve seen "The Apostle", then you’ve got a good idea what the Pentecostal faith entails. To make matters worse my mother suffers from severe persecution complex. She thinks she and her sister are the only "good" Christians and everyone else are "wolves in sheep’s clothing". She accuses everyone imaginable of putting "curses" on her and blames everything on "demon spirits" and the coming apocalypse. Her paranoia prevents her from attending a church for more than a few months. After that she becomes convinced the congregation is out to get her and she moves onto another unsuspecting church. My father is a misanthrope like Chad from "In the Company of Men". A business associate will call him on the phone and he’ll treat him like his best friend. Then once he hangs up he’ll belittle him. Both are so xenophobic they make Pat Buchanan seem like an internationalist. My parents horribly warped me in my formative years. For instance, they think cursing and especially the gd word is the worst sin imaginable. This meant no films for me as a kid. If I dared rent a movie with even moderately bad language I’d never hear the end of it. The only thing worse than cursing in their minds are –ohmygod– nipples! What makes this all the more hypocritical is they see nothing wrong with Chuck Norris breaking someone’s neck on TBS. As long as he doesn’t see any nipples and all his curse words are bleeped out everything is okay. How bizarre! As for music, my father hates it. Whenever we drove somewhere growing up we just sat in the car in silence. My mother only listens to Jimmy Swaggart-esque Christian music and thinks everythhing else is "demonic". Needless to say being discouraged from listening to music and watching films severely isolated me from other kids. I finally started listening to music at 15 and watching films in college. The reason I am so passionate about both music and film now is because I know all too well what it is like to do without. On the bright side there are so many films I haven’t seen that I can literally watch a classic film like "Taxi Driver" or "Fellini’s 8 1/2" everyday and not have to worry about watching mediocre fare. The same thing applies to music as well. — Kris "Books ain’t no good. A guy needs somebody–to be near him. A guy goes nuts if he ain’t got nobody. Don’t make no difference who the guy is, long’s he’s with you. I tell ya, I tell ya a guy gets too lonely an’ he gets sick." -John Steinbeck "Of Mice and Men"
Response:
I thought I’d take an informal survey here: how many of you can attribute at least some of your shyness to parental influence? As a young child I wasn’t that shy at all. In fact I was eager to just pour myself into whatever activity. I wanted to try anything and everything. The problem is my parents always squelched my enthusiams. If I got excited about some movie or T.V. show, they’d always respond: Oh, it was kind of stupid actually. If I wanted to join some club or sports team, they’d respond: I don’t think you’ll like it or you won’t be very good at it or won’t have time for anything else or its too expensive, etc. When I was little, I’d go prancing around the house singing my favorite song when my parents would respond "Just settle down" or "Your singings way off key". I remember back in junior high when I wanted to join the choir and my parents tried to talk me out of it. They thought my singing was horrible and that I’d make a total idiot of myself. A couple of times my parents would joke about how clumsy I was and how I was unathletic and there was nothing I could do about it because its an inherited thing. One of the worst memories I had was registering for high school classes. I had a good sense I who I was and what I wanted to take but it was a painful experience trying to get my mom to approve of my choices. During my freshman year, I wanted to take art as an elective and my mom said "You’re gonna waste a whole year of school taking a class you’re NOT going to like anyway and you’re not going to go into as a career. Its very impractical and unwise." Reluctantly she gave in eventually and I took the art classes. I found out that art isn’t really my thing but at least I got to find out for myself. My parents never gave me enough opportunities to just let me find out for myself. There were other times when I wanted to take all the advanced academic courses. I was pretty confident of my academic abilities. It was one area I was good at and I loved a good intellectual challenge. But my mom wasn’t so sure if I could handle the rigor of courses like A.P. biology or advanced chemistry. Once again she reluctantly gave in and I showed her by getting A’s in these courses and eventually going on to double major in biology and chemistry, graduading magna cum laude! The worst memory by far though is when the Spanish club was going to go on a ski trip. I was thrilled. I had wanted to go skiing for the longest time yet never had the opportunity. But my mom refused to sign the permission slip. She said, "You’ve never skiied before. You’ll make a fool of yourself. You’ll break a leg" On the day of the ski trip, I cried and cried alone in my room. All the other club members were going but me. Most haven’t skiied before but that couldn’t convince mom to change her mind. I couldn’t try skiing until college where I didn’t have to worry about permission slips. I think the combination of my parents’ (mom in particular) overprotectiveness and being teased by the kids at school is what made me shy. I’m 23 now and much less shy than I was as a teenager but I’m uncomfortable telling my parents about new things I want to try- whether its a new job I’m seeking after or a new relationship or even I new hobby I want to start up because of the bad experiences I’ve had in this area. I’m very close to my parents and I value the fact that I get along with them on good terms but there’s so much of my inner self that they don’t know about me. I’d like to be able to tell them anything and everything without the risk of being ridiculed. Laura
Response:
Laura Miller wrote: > I thought I’d take an informal survey here: how many of you can > attribute at least some of your shyness to parental influence?
I attribute a lot of my shyness to both my parents and teachers. Adults don’t realize the damage they can do when they praise shy children for their "good" behavior. When you’re a shy child you look up to adults so when an adult praises you for being "respectful and well-mannered" this only reinforces your shy qualities and helps create the dreaded "moral superiority" complex so many of us suffer from. — Kris "Books ain’t no good. A guy needs somebody–to be near him. A guy goes nuts if he ain’t got nobody. Don’t make no difference who the guy is, long’s he’s with you. I tell ya, I tell ya a guy gets too lonely an’ he gets sick." -John Steinbeck "Of Mice and Men"
Response:
Regarding: >Subject: confidence in trying new things >From: Laura Miller <mill1…@tc.umn.edu> >Date: 11/30/98 10:24 PM Central Standard Time >I thought I’d take an informal survey here: how many of you can >attribute at least some of your shyness to parental influence?…
- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – Although I believe that a certain percentage of the population is predisposed to shyness (and lots of other things, too), my upbringing definitely was a major contributor to my shyness, introversion, low self-esteem and delayed social development. I grew up in a family environment that was shame-based and occasionally physically violent. I had to adapt by trying not to attract attention. It was not OK to be "normal." I felt like I had to be an expert in something before I could try it. Learning from mistakes was generally unacceptable. The highest priority was to be an easy child to raise –NOT to be self-actualized. I believe that I am, from birth, an HSP (from Elaine Aron’s book, The Highly Sensitive Person), so there are things about myself that I need to understand and accept. I also need to learn how an HSP is specifically affected by the kind of family environment I was raised in. For quite some time, I felt like my parents, especially my mother, were sort of overly protective, to the point of being repressive. I wanted to join the Boy Scouts, but I was discouraged from that. I was not allowed to play with kids from a certain family in the neighborhood, because their mother was in a wheelchair! Even today, at 45 years of age, I still feel "typecast" by my family of origin. If I try to step a little too far outside the image they have of me, my plans are met with skepticism. Like what you’ve mentioned, I hesitate to speak at family gatherings about anything new I’m doing. The same old dire warnings are so predictable! And so, many times I have to converse like a politician issuing prepared statements. I’m happy to report, though, that I continue to make progress… Peace, Mike J.
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