When I was a child, I was the little girl who spoke so incredibly soft you had to pay special attention to hear me.
When I was a child, I hid behind my long stick-straight hair in hopes you wouldn’t call my name.
When I was a child, I listened to every, single thing spoken. Because I didn’t speak much myself.
When I was a child, I took days, weeks, months, to get to know you. I was hesitant. A bit modest. A bit self-conscious.
I wasn’t first in line because I wasn’t quick enough. I wasn’t chosen first because I wasn’t heard above the crowd.
When I was a child, I wasn’t as bold…as aggressive…as loud as your child.
Now I have my own child.
He speaks softly, moves carefully, thinks critically. He takes awhile to warm up to you.
I’ve never labeled my own self SHY, nor will I label this on my son.
And I won’t label yourself as UN-SHY, nor your own child.
We hate the word fat…we hate the word skinny. Racism is taboo and so is bullying. Can we please all stop putting labels on our children and let them be?
Let them flourish into their best selves, guiding them along the way. Strengthening their character and providing the push they may need, but also standing back and watching as they become exactly who they’re supposed to be. Their own unique selves, whoever that may be. Shy…un-shy…extroverted or not.