It’s funny how something so seemingly insignificant can have such an impact on a person’s life. I’m one of those people. Yes, I call the shyness I suffer from a disorder. The shyness itself isn’t the insignificant thing of which I speak. It’s the root cause of the shyness that seemed so insignificant at the time. That is, it would seem insignificant to anyone else. But to me, obviously, it was significant, or it wouldn’t have caused this condition that has profoundly altered the very course of my life. I was a normal kid all through elementary school. In fact, I was so outgoing that my fifth grade teacher, Mr. Tomlin, moved me to the back of the room at a table all by myself for a good part of the school year. I’m not sure what I did, but it was obviously enough to get me banished to the back of the class. Things changed in middle school somewhere. I went into a shell from which I’m still struggling to emerge. Things just seemed to get worse as I moved into the high school years. One of the consequences of shyness that I found is that I was scared to make any changes related to my appearance. This was true even if I knew that the change was for the better. An example was my Moe Howard special, my bowl haircut. I kept that bowl on my head through the eleventh grade. Despite knowing how it made me look, I just couldn’t manage to change it until the summer before my senior year. Another example of this was the glasses I got in the sixth or seventh grade. They were these thick horned rim type of frames. That was fine for then, but I kept that same damn frame until after high school. I just couldn’t bring myself to get a more stylish frame. I actually thought the glasses were the cause of the whole shyness thing for years. This is because the shyness seemed to start around the same time as my getting the glasses. But in retrospect, that couldn’t have been it. This is because I really didn’t mind getting the glasses at first. It was only later that they turned into a significant symbol of my shyness. It wasn’t until fairly recently that I discovered the true cause of the shyness. It occurred to me that shyness was really about my wanting to hide the real me, or at least parts of me. I had to keep things hidden. This wasn’t a conscious effort, it just happened. But the question was why? What caused this deep psychological scar? What happened at that point of my life to drive me into that shell? The simple answer is that I wet the bed. Sure, plenty of kids do that. But I wet the bed until I was in, I believe, the eighth grade. I can only guess that it didn’t bother me as much when I was in elementary school simply because, at that point, I regarded myself as more of a child. But we all know that there’s a transformation that begins in the middle school years. Bed wetting at that age was simply unacceptable. My theory is that, subconsciously, there was this part of my life that I didn’t want anyone to know about. Sure, consciously, I didn’t want anyone to know either. But I knew no one could know. So the subconscious part ended up being far more significant. One little quirk that I still live with speaks to the accuracy of my theory. I have a difficult time using a urinal when there’s another person in the room. I actually have to alter my habits to work around my bathroom difficulties. But this seems to definitely support the idea that there is trauma related to going to the bathroom. In addition to the bathroom issues, my disorder has profoundly changed my life in a multitude of ways. There are so many choices that were made in concession to the shyness. There were so many dreams put on hold or never pursued at all because of this. I got married when I shouldn’t have because of the shyness. I never even had a girlfriend until I was twenty five. The shyness made it just impossible to meet and talk to women. When I met the woman who was to become my now ex-wife, at the place we both worked, it just seemed like it was meant to be. Or I convinced myself that this was the case. I went ahead and married her even though I knew in some ways that it just wasn’t right. But I guess I thought that was my only chance at happiness. Despite all of this, I am happy with who I am today and who I’m becoming and what I hope to achieve. I wouldn’t be the person I am today if it weren’t for the shyness. I don’t think I would be anywhere near as thoughtful, if things would have been different. And I greatly value that trait in myself. But that’s the nature of being shy. You are by definition introspective. You have plenty of time to think when you have no social life. The bottom line is that the smallest thing can leave such a scar. The most insignificant event can have a lasting effect. We are all flawed. We are all imperfect, some more so than others. But we all have to find a way to work through our condition. We have to find answers and try to move forward. I am slowly but surely emerging from my shell. The secret for me is to, step by step, reveal the true me to the people around me, and just maybe the world.  For reasons not entirely attributable to the shyness, at least not directly, I was not living a life that was authentic. I was not being true to what is inside of me. This had to do with religion, as it does with so many others. Now that I’m being true to what’s inside of me and not trying to suppress my wants and desires anymore, I can see that the shyness is starting to fade away. If I consciously hide things, how can I expect my subconscious to behave any differently? There are effects of this that I will most likely always carry with me. But that’s alright. The bottom line is that for the most part the shyness isn’t hindering me anymore. I am moving forward. I’m finally reaching for my dreams. I’m starting to really live my life. It may be later than what it is for some. But all I can say is better late than never.