(Don't) Tell Me I Can't

Real Word Magazine December 2010 Issue 1.5 Courage

(Don't) Tell Me I Can't
by Kathryn Hansis


Foot on brake, foot on clutch, key in ignition, shift into first.
Don’t tell me I can’t.

“You’re just shy.”
The words cover me like thick, boiling molasses. Slowly covering my entire body and heating up my skin from head to toe. I cringe at the thought of how red my face can get just from three letters.

Foot on gas, slowly release clutch.
I’m moving. To Hawai`i.

Shy. The compact, three-letter word, which has been a constant source of frustration, has relentlessly followed me around for the last 23 years. And this time, it’s no different. For as long as I can remember I’ve been trying to scrape this word, and its negative connotation, from my back. But even after 4,000 miles, from Boston to Hawai‘i, this word has adhered itself to my skin, stuck on as if it’s part of me. It’s not.

Foot on clutch, shift into second.
I’m moving forward.
And so is my head, my ideas, my thoughts, my creativity, my fears, my anxiety.

When I was younger my peers attached the adjective “shy” to my name as if it was something I could put on my resume. As if it was a card I could pull out when trying to describe myself. But it came in the same deck as quiet, lonely, timid, and afraid, and I refuse to play those cards.

Every time I heard these words, I would get angry from the inside out. Even though I was always stoic in my appearance, anyone who was paying any attention could see the discomfort in my face. But no one was, because I was too shy to be bothered with.

Foot on clutch, foot on break, shift into neutral.
I’m stopped.
Where do I go from here?
What is the next step?
I’ve done this before, how come I can’t figure out what to do next?

But in my solitude I was always dreaming. Dreaming of independence, solo adventures, and self-sufficiency. Dreaming of being defined by my strengths instead of my weaknesses. Dreaming of being defined by how I really am on the inside rather than by how I appear to be on the outside.

But that word, shy, crept in and put up barricades on all the roads that lead me out of my mind. The barricades appeared in the form of preparations for conversations that I might have during my next human interaction. They came in the form of line rehearsal for possible questions I might be asked. My creativity was always being interrupted. And it was all in an effort to make up for my lack of successful discourse, and to counteract my social anxiety. It was as if for the last 23 years, every conversation felt like an interview.

I sit at the stop sign. I sit there much longer than necessary. Long enough to annoy the truck sitting behind me. I wave him on to move ahead of me, while I slouch down in my seat to avoid eye contact and any further embarrassment. Why did I buy this truck? I can’t even drive it….

When did I forget what to do?
Wait, when did I ever actually know what to do?
Stop thinking. You don’t need to know what to do.
Just do it.

But all struggles build character. Although I’ve been hidden behind a word, and in some situations, lost the chance to be known for who or what I really can do or be, I’ve been given the opportunity to put all of my energy into something that I can be proud of. I’ve been able to find my voice through my creativity. My art, photography, writing, and design have always been the best friends I’ve ever had. They are my passion and the way I feel most comfortable expressing myself. They are my unspoken words.

What I’ve learned is that what I need most is to be satisfied with what is inside, and that is something that only I can figure out. But today, there isn’t a lot of time to be quiet and find our inner voices. There aren’t many opportunities to be alone – or simply, to be. So instead of being regarded as wise, powerful, and reflective, silence is looked upon as being awkward, unproductive, and uninformed. At least that’s been my experience.

I can’t sit here all day. I can’t leave my truck here. Try harder.
Stall.
Stall again.
Frustration takes over.
Anger cancels out anxiety.
Breathe. No one will do this for you. You have to figure it out by yourself.
Try harder.

So here I am.
In an effort to rid myself of this curse and instead focus on my blessing — my ability to retreat within myself, my ability to find comfort in being alone, my ability to think before I speak, and most importantly, my ability to listen — I moved as far away as possible from my home in Boston, and I dove head first into a situation where survival was the only choice. I wanted to teach myself just how strong I can be.
How strong I know I am.

Foot on clutch, shift into first.
Foot on gas, slowly release clutch.
I’m moving.

So here I am. Trying to try harder.
At the beginning of two parallel journeys, which happen to be at an intersection of Waialua Beach Rd and Komo St.

One involves facing all fears, saying yes to every opportunity I am offered, and pushing myself to be more than just the shy girl who doesn’t speak very much.
Because I’m not just that girl.

The other involves understanding the reality that I may always be that girl on the outside, but accepting myself for who I really am, and not allowing the adjectives that others use to describe me dictate what I can do with my life, or limit me in any way.

Foot on clutch, shift into second.
I’m moving. To Hawai`i.

Hopefully, some day in the future I will deny every last word of this and pretend that everything came naturally, without struggle…. But until that day, which may (let’s be realistic) never come, I will continue to work on my flaws. In an effort to do so I am constantly focusing on how to try harder. No matter where I go, I will have a burden to face, but I will also always have my strength as a counterweight. It is because of my strength that I have accomplished things this year that I would never have imagined possible. And it is because of my solitude, silence, and quiet, that I was able to find that inner strength.

Foot on clutch, shift into third.

So now I try harder, push a little further, and do something today that I was afraid to do yesterday. I’m on a journey to see just how far I can push myself and just how much I can accomplish, just by being me.

Fourth. Fifth.
And don’t you dare tell me I can’t.
I’ll be the judge of that.