I have been a seriously chatty person (apparently) since I was three years old. A true empath by the time I was four, communication was always something that came quite easily in my formative years. I think if you were being polite you would have called me a precocious child. I remember being at the hairdressers and my wonderful hairdresser Bev who reminded me so much of Linda Evangelista as this was around the hay day of the supermodel so my reference was very on point for the time.
I remember her telling me that compared to her two sisters she wasn’t pretty at all, (we had at this point been in a lengthy conversation about how lovely I thought she was) I exclaimed that I felt she was doing herself a great injustice and I for one thought she was beautiful, inside and out. I did not realise at the age of ten that this was perhaps unusual or even a little ridiculous, until I looked in the mirror and saw her friendly laugh and the amused laughing faces of the entire rest of the salon. None were being mean and in fact I thought I was very clever and everyone adored me, I was far more confident then than almost thirty years later.
Before this even I was aware that perhaps my communication or humour was not quite matching my years. In class one aged five, when giving feedback to my mother with how I was settling into school, Mrs Lamb said, “..The only thing is, I can’t ever joke to myself in an adult way, I did so the other day and looked up and Emma was giggling and nodding her head!” The private mutterings of my neat little welsh teacher were forever ruined as I was hanging around practically knocking back a gin saying “I hear ya love”.
I have found, as I get older and my chat has never really altered or dissipated, despite having access and permission to a number of swears if the joke or story requires, but I don’t like swearing too much I always feel guilty. The main issue I am finding is the need for near constant apology for my loquacious nature. It seems the common conception is that it is just a bit too much to deal with, it makes heads hurt and one of the worst was that It makes me “such a character” fantastic.
To be honest I’d rather not be considered “a character” ever in life, it does not feel in any way an attribute worth nurturing. Not to say I’d like to be thought of as dull or not leave any impression at all but the constant feeling of “too much” is very damaging to the ego. I have tried being quieter, I endeavoured for people to consider me shy and sweet, but there are so many thoughts and opinions sprinting around my brain box I end up feeling anxious and fed up when I hold them in.
I feel like this must be how Macaulay Culkin feels, whatever either of us did at the age of five was funny, adorable and well lets face it just down right cute. But both at the same age of thirty-eight, no one wants our offerings of precociousness, becuase now it’s just a bit weird.
Maybe yoga will help, I hear it’s good for most things and perhaps will give me so much inner peace I won’t feel the need to speak so much to all the outer spaces.
I’ll update how I go, I do think I am verging on becoming like Margot Durrell for having epiphanies but I’ll think about how to deal with that quietly, in silence, perhaps.