I’ve been lurking online since I first got internet service back in dial up days. I even followed one very active forum for about 5 years – I spent hours on it. Daily. Without ever making a post. I felt like I knew the people on it. I even talked about them like they were friends of mine. They were a significant part of my life, yet they had no idea I even existed.
A few years ago, I traveled to a comedy gig with the rest of the comics on the slate. I hadn’t met them before that night and the drive was about an hour and a half. They were all chattering away, having super interesting conversations about previous gigs, how they got started and their future plans. Fascinating stuff. I hung on every word. I turned my attention and my head towards whoever was speaking at the moment. I was completely engaged. Ask me what they talked about afterwards and I could summarize the stories. I was there. In my mind I was involved in the conversation. But I didn’t contribute. I didn’t say a word.
By the time we got to the venue, I felt like I knew these people. But they didn’t know me. After the show, one of them came up to chat with me and introduce himself. I made some comment about something he had said in the van on the way up. He said “You were in the van?” At that moment, I got a flash of insight: I was “lurking” in real life. There was no way others could know that I was connected if I didn’t open my mouth.
Since then, I’ve been intentionally working on *talking* during social situations. Sometimes I worry that I talk too much. When this happens, I’m reminded of the advice my counselor once gave me: “It’s your turn. For years, you’ve erred on the side of talking too little. You’re entitled to hog the limelight once in a while as you practice this new way of showing up in the world.”
I’ve turned both my awareness and my self-acceptance towards these new experiments with loquaciousness. Awareness to the fact that I need to prompt myself to participate. To notice when I’m just listening in the background and to take my awareness outside myself: how would the others in the room perceive me right now? And accepting myself as I am – allowing myself to be ME. I used to go to events armed with stories and jokes to tell. I’d bone up on the latest news and current events. I’d watch TV to study. Then I’d show up and basically pretend to be someone else. It was awkward. It was exhausting. And it wasn’t much fun.
Now I just show up as myself. I tell stories about whatever is happening in my life. I make jokes in the moment. I don’t worry too much about being “appropriate” – nor do I worry too much about what others may think. That’s their business. If they like me, great. If they don’t, that’s great too. In the words of Kurt Cobain: “I’d rather be hated for who I am, than loved for who I am not.”
It appears to be working. I’ve been accused of being gregarious and have heard comments like: “You’re an introvert?! No way!” We were invited to dinner at a friend’s house before we left Victoria. In the car afterwards, I realized that I had monopolized the conversation. I did NOT beat myself up about it (as I would have done at one point) – instead I looked at it as progress. As my counselor would say, I took my turn. Besides, our hosts were both introverts. As is Joe. I reminded myself how much I enjoy having an extrovert around, because they take the pressure off by doing the talking. Introverts tend to be happy and comfortable in listening mode.
Weirdly enough, just as I’m becoming comfortable with real live human beings, I find myself with a new challenge. Repeating the lurking pattern online. I’ve been procrastinating about writing a blog for about 5 years now. You would think that after my real life “coming out” experiments: socializing with real people, learning public speaking and talking about my sex life on stage as a comic – that writing a blog in the anonymous world of the internet would be easy. But it’s not. It’s a new type of exposure.
New social media. New ways to lurk. I rarely update my status on Facebook, but I visit there every day and enjoy reading what others have written. I feel like I know one of my cousins more now than I ever did as a child, because she posts updates about her life on a regular basis. But she probably isn’t even aware that I’m there reading them. Reconnected? Not exactly.
I joined Twitter…hell I even have a “Follow Me” button on my blog. I listen in for a while everyday. But I don’t tweet. It feels awkward. I’ve watched my friends join up and chatter away as if it’s the most comfortable thing in the world. But I feel stuck. I’m telling myself that I have to “do it right.” As if there is a “right” way to tweet. Or to blog. Or to post on Facebook.
Shyness combined with perfectionism. The perfect combination to stop an introvert in their tracks.
Thanks to the pressure support of my buddies from the WriteSpeak program – including Havi, who ever so kindly wrote this series of posts just for me – I am now exposing myself in this blog. Next, I will explore all the *wrong* ways to tweet. One day soon, I may even update my Facebook status…
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{ 4 comments… read them below or add one }
Patty, as I read your blog, I’m surprised at how much alike we are, more than I realized in Saluda. My tendency is also to “lurk” either in person or on the internet and especially in the realm of social media.
During live conversations, I am more likely to fine-tune my mental message to the point that I actually miss the chance to pop in with something relevant to the topic before the group moves on the the next topic & I’ve lost my chance to contribute.
I also feel like I need to be “on” to spark up a conversation and to entertain people if someone is feeling down or having a bad day. SUrprisingly, when Barbara asked one night if anyone had any good stories or jokes, I couldn’t think of any, at least that were clean enough for mixed company. When I told that to my husband, he almost didn’t believe me. “You always have a bunch of jokes up your sleeve.” But for some reason, I really just didn’t.
So what do we do? I guess we need to bare our souls a bit and take a chance that not only will someone not criticize what we say, but they might actually enjoy it! Cool stuff, presumably.
Do as I say, not as I do, huh? Have fun and speak up, both online & real-time and you’ll find spots where you can be comfortable or at least not uncomfortable. And if you show me yours, I’ll show you mine … soul, that is. lol
Beth: I totally hear you on the “fine tuning the message” thing. I do that too – spend all my time editing and never actually say anything. This too tricks me into feeling like I’m part of the conversation, seems I *think* about responses, but never voice them.
You were holding out on dirty jokes? Damn!
Aw, yes, we the Lurkers. We should start our own Club. Lurkers Club? Club Lurkers? Hmm, we’d have to start wearing helmets.
Ms. Patty: Well done – demonstrating you way with words!!! There is aspect to this lurking – observing, processing, and sometimes not really interested in the chit chat. Many times I lurk because the social world I am in and mine seem to be not connected. It is easier to be quiet then stick out – with the perceived response of “what is she talking about”. Yet like you said if it is my turn I run away with much enthusiasm. Keep the words coming! Love to be a lurker in your corner.