shame: recent publications

relaxed or at ease in the company of others.In junior high, a group of the most popular girls called each other every night to hash over the school day and gossip. My best friend was in this group, and while I was comfortable talking with her, I felt awkward talking on the phone with anyone else. For example, the first and only time I talked on the phone with “Judy” I knew I was expected to talk to her for one hour or more.

I ran out of topics after a few minutes, but continued having an awkward and strained conversation for the remaining 50 minutes before hanging up, and sadly concluded, “I’m different. I don’t fit in.”In high school, I played on the girls’ softball team. I remember standing on third base yawning and yawning, trying to stay awake.

It seemed strange to me as I wasn’t tired. Who yawns while playing a sport? I do, I reasoned, because I am different. Now I know I yawned from boredom and was struggling to keep myself awake.Even as an adult, my apparent differences were questioned and observed.When my five-year-old son injured his finger and came to me for comfort, I responded by putting a bandage on his finger.