Introversion: the robber of joy?

I tell everyone that I go to a dance class.

Truth is, it’s keep-fit and we’re all ladies of a certain age, wiggling along to lyrics we no longer understand (“Baby get shaky after school” - is that doing your homework after too many Red Bulls?) and generally struggling to keep up with our peppy leader.

But let me tell you: those moments that I do get it right and I’m doing the exact same steps as the two ladies next to me? I’m a Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader, only with rosacea and a Quality Street habit that I refuse to abandon.

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You’d be surprised how much courage it took to go to that first class.

I suspect my introversion may be extreme: the smallest things can feel like a huge deal. There have been times when I’ve needed to chivvy myself just to leave the house.

“No one’s looking at you!” my mum used to holler, as I struggled to hide under my towel when changing on the beach. But as an adult, it can feel like the fear is still there: are people watching? What might they be thinking? Do I measure up?

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I’ve said no to a few opportunities over the years because of my introversion.

Little things like charity shop fashion shows and big things like teaching scrapbooking overseas or being a local preacher. I’ve just known that I’m not built for the inevitable accompanying anxiety.

The self acceptance lesson has been good to learn, but I’ll admit that the knowledge can make me a little cross: “I want to be the one who walks in the sun,” too.

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These days, I’m largely content with sorting the second-hand clothes that feature in the fashion shows and making the after-service tea for the visiting preachers.

But I’ll keep pushing myself to make the odd little pint-sized foray into the extrovert world, as it’s so good for me. And why should the extroverts have all the fun?

I’ll be over there in the corner, working the Pineapple combats and messy bun, trying to ignore my arthritic toe while punching the air to the Pulp Fiction soundtrack, as if I’ve lived half the years and got double the confidence.

Go me.