A couple of weeks ago I was having dinner with an acquaintance from the meetup group I started. At one point during our dinner she asked me what my gifts are. Even though her question was within the context of our conversation, it still threw me off for a second.
What are my gifts? Did I know?
I stammered through a lame sentence or two, yammering about something I’d probably be embarrassed about if I could still remember what I said. And then I blurted out “being me”! I mentioned that my gift is sharing my story about what it took and is still taking. For most of my life, I stayed in the background so that no one would notice me because I felt I had nothing of value to offer. While I no longer feel that way about myself, in hearing that question, I froze and wanted to disappear. Where was our waiter to interrupt us?
My old insecurities and doubt elbowed their way into our dinner conversation. Putting my beautiful feelings and beliefs about myself to words might possibly result in her judging me. And, given our conversation topic, I assumed she expected me to say that I could hear someone’s thoughts, or see energy, or know the future. Instead, I eventually got around to answering that my gift is just being me. I hoped she wasn’t disappointed.
I finally feel I’m pretty awesome and I’d really rather not hide myself anymore. And yet I still need to give myself room.
If you can’t find me just look in the furthest corner of our backyard, I’ll probably be there. I like to tuck away. In my thoughts, in my feelings.
Over 10 years ago I went sailing with a group in the BVIs. I’m still friends with someone from that trip. He was over at our house for lunch one day and he finally understood that I’m an introvert. I asked him, didn’t you notice it on the trip? He told me that I was always off in a corner somewhere. That’s not easy to do on a sailboat. But if several people are on a sailboat with me? Trust me. I’ll find a corner away from the hub-bub even if it’s just in my head.
My intention is not to hide.
But there are often too many humans around. The thought of many people looking at me as I walked towards my husband at the alter, completely unnerved me. When my Zumba instructor invited me up to the front of the room to dance with her groupies, I was both flattered and terrified. I danced my best Elaine from Seinfeld moves. I always wondered why she never asked me up there again.
In reality, when I give a talk I have so many gifts to share. But doing so is such an enormous challenge and stretches me not to run for cover. Do I have other perceived “gifts” along the lines of our conversation? Yes. As we all do. However, the bigger point is that my greatest gift is being me. It’s allowing myself to share all that I’ve learned about discovering our own gift. To experience and really see others while letting them see me. Figuratively and literally.