Written by Shelby-Liza Ndumbi
For as long as I could remember, I’ve been shy. Quiet.
I didn’t admit it to myself why I was quiet up to an extend that my surroundings wouldn’t know the sound of my voice. I was floating here and there in classrooms, hallways, the outside world that wasn’t the four familiar walls of my bedroom.
I never truly understood society like I never understood technology. They play hand-in-hand, you could never completely grasp a full understanding of them both and when you think you do... you don’t. I like to believe that’s okay, not understanding everything there is about your life and my own.
Growing up, with me only mentioning what I can recall, people around me would always be the first ones to say “You’re too quiet.” “We haven’t heard from you yet, Shelby.” I never liked it when people would call my name in the middle of class, it scared me. Made me jumpy and shiver down my spine for some reason. I never liked talking in class or too much around fellow friends, I would let them talk amongst themselves about what fascinates them since I never really knew what they were chatting about. I was considered a lost person, I was there physically, but not really mentally.
After I moved and switched schools, doing the rest of fifth and sixth grade in a new elementary building, I was already told within the first month or so that I don’t talk much or enough. “I only got here.” I said to myself, what was there to complain about? It didn’t seem like there was much to comment on, so I stay quiet. Excuse me for not speaking about a topic that doesn’t interest me, but I’ve noticed it’s not only uninteresting subjects (depending on which course or topic) that causes me not to chat, there are other factures.
For one thing, I never felt like I truly belonged in the group of people I’m in all the way through elementary, middle and high school. Like that was a mistake made by me or someone else. I noticed maybe one reason that I felt that way and that goes back to the mentioning of me being a lost person, everyone (or the majority) of my classmates knew trends, verbal words and others that I didn’t know, nor cared for. That made me the purple shirt in a pile of blue shirts where everyone knew exactly what is what. I didn’t blend nicely with the other shirts.
My weirdness was not on the same level as everyone else’s, nor was my innocence, imagination or creativity.
I can hear it now, other individuals would probably sprinkle in that I’m quiet due to the change in environment and school, but you couldn’t be more wrong... I was more than fine with the move; it was the people. I know just as much as anyone that no one is the same as another, unless you’re a clone replica, yet everyone felt the same to me and different, but a different that blends together regardless.
I wasn’t part of that mix even if I wanted to. They would talk about One Direction, I didn’t care. They spoke about specific types of rappers and singers that I didn’t know nor cared for that I was labeled as UNEDUCATED. I would be given the stink eye for not knowing what these other girls knew, and quite frankly, I congratulated myself for not being part of the ensemble that didn’t suit me. And I hold till this day.
The second thing I noticed is the lack of listening or interrupting others while they speak. Everyone loved talking over one another so much that they didn’t bother to stop, so it felt fine to them. But, when it came to me, if I were to accidently cut someone off, I would be told that I’m being disrespectful and rude. Which is exactly what the other girls were doing, it made no sense how not only irrational that felt, but heartbreaking for someone who literally cries with joy when she sees a sunset, sunrise or the moon for that matter. Lol
When such a display happens, I don’t feel like talking anymore because when I’m quiet, there are no complaints. If I interrupt someone or do anything wrong, I apologize to them like a decent person would. Yet these two classmates of mine, let’s call them Hanna and Jennice, would isolate me for a moment in order to say how I’ve been cutting them off all the damn time when that’s not true. Compare me to the other eight girls or so, including Hanna and Jennice on who talks, shouts, interrupts the most, I’d be outweighed by them. It’s like taking the blame, in this case apologizing for something you didn’t do, for a crime I haven’t committed. I’m the one being demonized for it.
Whether I’m with friends or surrounded by a ton of other students, random people, public speaking has never been my strong suit wherever I am. And because of my past experiences with humans, students, I tend to ask nowadays “Am I bothering you?” a lot.
Don’t misunderstand though, quietness is very helpful in a sense of observing the behavior of other bodies. Like by being quiet you take note on how they act and notice things that they don’t know or admit, and call them out on it. *Especially if it hurts your feelings. It’s not for spying btw, you just so happen to be paying attention. For example, I remember this one day back in ninth, tenth grade Jennice and I arrived at the cafeteria a little later.
For some reason students around that time took 1/2 a section of the tables we ate on and place it against the wall as a medium seized bench that fit six people at most. I was about to sit next to “Cori” with my lunch, she thought I didn’t notice the look of disgust she had on her face or the mummering under her breath, but I did.
To her it was a joke, yet I wasn’t laughing. After I caught that, she saw that I saw, I got up and left. Cori tried to bring me back while giggling, but I didn’t want to. I knew the one place in that damn school I genuinely liked was the library. Being surrounded by books always made me happy and writing them too, so I stayed there for the majority of high school. Every lunch break, every spare I had I would be in the library. There was no other place I truly felt comfortable.
My love for books transitioned to writing them towards the end of eighth grade entering ninth, being around them brought that out of me plus story time as well back in fifth grade 😊. That’s why I describe myself as a multi-artist (dancing since four, self-taught drawing before my art program in 2018, singing I think lol, writing, clay modeling, a bit of painting, arts’n’crafts, and an Adobe software user where I created a portrait of myself in a digital form *I still have that portrait.)
Portraying my artistic abilities in different forms as my voice has served me amazingly over the years of my life, and I really hope hope hope that my novels, which I finally started typing get published. However, my shyness and quietness hasn’t gone since I’ve started typing, nor studying in College, but it has reduced a little bit.
A little.
A personal essay.
Would you, dear reader, like to add something?
TOP PHOTO: Picture taken by me