Awkward Mingler

Hey, you.  Yeah, I'm talking to you.  Hey, awkward mingler.  You, nervously smiling, nervously laughing, not knowing where to stand, feeling like you're in the way, twisted, nervous Spanish coming out of your mouth.

I made you go.  Yes, I did.  I wanted you to go and socialize and get to know people in the department better, even though you didn't want to.  I didn't want you to be holed up in your apartment, so I made you go.

You need to get over it, you do.  I'm trying to break you of it.  I'm trying to stop you from being so self-conscious.  I know, I know.  You were the only grad student there and the rest were professors, lecturers, instructors and their families from the department.  But so what?

I'm trying to stop you from focusing inward all the time.  This was a chance for you to get to know people, to show people who you are outside of the classroom.  It wasn't the time to think about how awkward you felt, how out of place you felt.  It was the time for you to forget about that crap and be relaxed and confident and enjoy yourself.

You looked nice, didn't you?  Your hair was just right, you wore a simple polka dot dress with a belt that actually goes with something else and your bright red platform sandals, didn't you?  Didn't people compliment you?  But you couldn't accept it gracefully.  You accepted it embarrassedly.  And I don't understand why.

But I know one thing: Until you learn to get over it, I will continue to make you go.  I will drag you there every time.  I don't even want to hear it.  You are a grown woman and I'm going to force you to learn how to be comfortable in situations that are out of your comfort zone.