The Twelves.

[offbalance]

So I seem to have this problem.

It's an odd phenomenon. It doesn't happen often, but when it does hit, it hits hard. And usually? It involves someone I like in that special way.


See, when I'm around friends or people who I don't give a flying crap what they think of me, I'm fine. I'm me. I'm my usual snarky, doofy, weird, off-the-cuff, irreverent, strident, passionate, loudmouthed self.

Throw someone I like in the mix?

I freeze up. Not just a little bit, either. I stiffen so much I look like I need an oil can to sort me out. I am unable to speak. To move. To do anything except panic about doing anything.

I've started calling this phenomenon "the Twelves." Named for what it's like to have a crush when you're 12 - everything is so utterly and completely mortifying that it's paralyzing - especially if a crush object is somewhere in your purview. Or was mentioned. Or thought about. And when I say everything, I mean everything. Singing, dancing, silly behavior, the wrong words, anything not deemed absolutely normal are occurrences too horrific to bear. Which, incidentally, is where the paralysis comes in. Shocking, I know.

The grand and terribly irony of all of this is that all of this statue-imitating isn't generally good for making sparks fly. The part of me that is aching for the attraction to be mutual goes into panic mode. I can feel the steel doors clanging down, hiding all of the quirky, goofy personality-related things that are part in parcel about what makes me attractive (at least according to those who care about me). So, therein lies the dilemma. I can recognize the problem; I've been aware of it for a few weeks now. However, I haven't the faintest idea of what to do about it. I know that playing freeze tag is counterproductive of my desired results. I know it boils down to a matter of self-confidence (or relative lack thereof).

I think it's a matter of self-preservation. When one gets singled out so often for being other than the so-called norm, it makes a body get self-conscious. When the novelty wears off and the moments where the "fuck off!" piss and vinegar attitude fades away, you just want to be liked. Especially by the boys you think are cute. You don't want to be seen as a weirdo, you want to be seen as someone likeable. So it gets all tumbled up upstairs - I have to strip away anything that I think is unique or odd in order to be likeable. You worry that what you want wants beige. And you are not beige. Never really have been, and probably never will be.

I know that in the end I have to convince myself that what I am is not only enough, but awesome to show to the world. That all that stuff about how the right person liking all of you no matter how dorky or whatever else isn't total bullshit, and that the right thing to be is not Stepford.

I read this comment thread on Jezebel today, and there was something that stood out to me. This girl was quoting the birthday card she got from her boyfriend, and it said this:

"i am so happy that i found you. you think jackass is funny. you watched me wipe my butt on a public street and laughed. you basically laugh at things that anyone with their teeth thinks is deplorable, and i feel so lucky to have you in my life."

I feel like this says a lot. Now, while I may not daydream about these exact words, what they say beneath mean a lot to me. This is someone declaring, "Hey, you get me. And I really like that fact." It's Lily and Marshall on How I Met Your Mother. The point is, the reason these relationships work and are happy is that they're based on reality. That the kind of person I really want to end up will think me snorting when I laugh hard is cute, that tolerates my dearly beloved puns, and looks on all other moments of my dorkdom with either bemused affection or the desire to join in. And I have to remember that when I'm around a guy I like or I am attracted to. But it's haaard. There's still that nasty little voice in the back of my head that tells me that I'll scare them off. That they don't want me. That they want an invention I call Pefect Girl, someone who is essentially Stepford. The type who always says and does the right thing at the right time, is never a spaz, is always appropriate and sensible; never embarrassing, silly, stupid, weird, or the like. You know. Completely Normal. In other words, boring.

*sigh* For a smart person, I'm powerful stupid sometimes. At least I've figured out my problem. With guys I'm not into, I'm relaxed and totally not worried, so I'm more myself. And I usually wind up in a lot of right words/wrong mouth situations for that reasons. I'm so worried about being Perfect Girl around the guys I like that I'm not me. I'm a statue of me. And we all know how much fun statues are, don't we kids?

I guess the only way to fix this is to keep an eye on it and to not let it happen anymore. Which may or may not be as easy as it sounds. Stay tuned.

Comments

[queenmother49.livejournal.com]

the part I love about this whole thing...is I guarantee you he's a spaz too. :)

[fragbert.livejournal.com]

Well, they say knowing is half the battle. And for what it's worth, you're not the only person I know who gets the twelves.

Personally, I spend hours and hours post-event, replaying everything I said, every joke told, every anecdote shared, every remark made -- convinced I made a complete ass of myself and that I have shit in the tuba¹. And then it all turns out okay. But do I learn? No.

¹Man gets drunk at a party being held in a mansion, tries to find the bathroom, takes a dump in the beautiful golden toilet. Next day finds out he was in the music room and shit in the tuba.

[blergeatkitty.livejournal.com]

I think it's a sign that you've met the right one when he doesn't make you do that.

Think about it this way, though - have you ever liked a guy less because of one dumb thing he said or did? One really dumb thing? I'm not talking admitting his obsession with the Constitution or shoving his tongue on your face or grinning with a mouth full of British teeth. I'm talking like one tiny, idiotic blurt or gesture that isn't a betrayal of who he really is, it's just something he may have preferred not to say or do. When it's someone you like, do you sit there and catalog all the things he did that you liked and didn't like and weigh them on a scale of final qualitative analysis to determine whether you'll see him again? Has there ever been, at any time, anybody who's had one tiny instance ruin them in your eyes? No? Then why would you think others do that to you?

Or do you get turned off when a guy is really nervous? How often does that happen to you? Personally, I like someone better when they're nervous. It means they really like me.

embrace your hue

[quantumchick.livejournal.com]

First off, I think it's awesome that you named this phenomenon "The Twelves." Brilliant!

Secondly, it likely won't surprise you that I suffer from the same affliction (we are 100% compatible, after all.) The difference for me is that, instead of turning into a statue, I have this need to appear "popular" by talking to anyone with whom I have ever shared an elevator, making me come off as unabashedly phony and generally unbearable.

Anyway, I realized that The Twelves usually come around for me in a party scenario, when I am most insecure, and worried that nobody will want to talk to me (let alone my crush.) So, instead of yammering on, I have learned to take a few deep breaths (seriously), smile like I mean it, and ask the person next to me a question about himself. Pretty soon you're smiling and you do mean it, and odds are that your crush will be attracted to your confidence. From what I have been told, guys really dig that.

You're lime green with little, aqua polka dots, and you're fabulous. You deserve to find Mr. Yellow-and-Crimson-Stripes.

[firynze.livejournal.com]

Get out of my head, willya?

[squiddeh.livejournal.com]

"Perfect Girl" does not exist. Or if "Perfect Girl" exists in the way you describe she's so far from being normal she's probably crazy.

Who wants to be "normal" anyway. Normal is boring. I totally prefer the person that does or says something so hilarious it has me laughing and telling them "You're so not right!"

Perfect = right for you. Perfect does not = Stepford

[valjean615.livejournal.com]

Hrmm...good to know I'm not alone in this whole nervousness thing. And nice call on naming it the Twelves (you sure you don't write for HIMYM?), Though for me, I can go either way...either being a statue, staying frozen there, or just rambling my head off like a little babbling fool. The real me is somewhere in between there, but I'm always afraid to show it to people that I like and crush on. Darn insecurities.

But hopefully you can work to get rid of it (if you do figure it out, let me know). At least you're aware of the Twelves. That's 2 things going there for you now and a good start to effect change in yourself. Okay, I'll stop my social work mumbo-jumble for now and wish you luck,

[hermionesviolin.livejournal.com]

I definitely sympathize. I think I tend to feel like I have to sell myself as this perfect person -- who's totally knowledgeable and witty and sure of herself and has all the right answers and knows exactly how to re/act and everything -- and I'm allowed to let my imperfections (or even just the parts of my personality/life that are less likely to be socially acceptable, whatever that might mean in any given context) show once someone already likes me and will then be more inclined to let those things slide.