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Katelyn Cress

Sally Lahmon

English 1101

1 June 2018

Discovering My Escape Route as an Introvert

“The results are in, I am reluctant to say they do not look good,” the doctor

explained, “The diagnosis has come back and I regret to inform you that you are an

introvert.”

To be fair, approaching the realization that you are an introvert is hardly as

traumatic as discovering that you have a life-threatening illness. Nonetheless, it can be

a challenge striving to discover innovative ways to overcome that apprehension. As an

introvert, I optimistically used to envision a world in which class presentations failed to

exist; they were obsolete and my shyness was superior for it. Have you ever

encountered an individual who possessed the ability to push you so far out of your

comfort zone simply to acquire the outright best from you? Once their inspiration strikes

you across the face, it is as if you have waited your entire life to get on the other side.

The side without uncertainty and hesitation, where you harbor clarity. As a result of my

mom, a dreadful Spanish presentation, and my pitiful endeavor to skip school, I was

able to discover myself on that other side.

I loathed the thought of speaking in public in high school, but speaking in public

in a completely different language? Eso no es bueno! Immediately, I realized I had to

fabricate an imaginative lie so that I could avoid the dire Spanish presentation. I may not

have been on the same level as Ferris Bueller; however, I could at least allow myself an
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extra day to prepare. The only flaw: my mouth. I neglected to recall that I had mentioned

to my mom how anxious the thought alone of this presentation was making me.

Instantly, she was able to call me on my bluff the moment I merely hinted at feeling sick

the night before my presentation. I was anticipating the disappointed speech, I am sure

that you are familiar with the kind I am referring to. The rather cheap shot parents

almost effortlessly take once you have already accepted what an immense and total

failure you are. The speech that is essentially equivalent to vigorously stubbing your toe

repeatedly.

“Let’s go get something to eat,” my surprisingly calm mom suggested.

“Mom, are you alright?” I hesitated, “It’s 9 p.m., I’m an anxious mess, and I have

to present a three-minute-long presentation in Spanish tomorrow.”

She responded, “That’s exactly why you need to be anywhere but here.”

It was then when it registered with me. It would not make an ounce of a

difference if I made my way upstairs and senselessly gazed over the notes I had recited

an absurd number of times. “Be ready in five,” I agreed tentatively.

We arrived at this unfamiliar tavern where the atmosphere was dare I say,

boisterous. It hit me, my mom brought me to a bar. What was she planning? Was she

going to going to give me a shot of whiskey in hopes of loosening me up? Instantly, I

caught a glimpse of a sign through the corner of my eye that read Karaoke Night.

“I’m out,” I cautioned. What was her intention? To prolong my agony?

“I need you to realize how unimportant this presentation tomorrow is,” she

confided, “You are bigger than this presentation and whatever it takes to make you

realize that, I am willing to do or at least encourage you to do.” She continued, “Letting
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go of yourself onstage for three minutes isn’t going to kill you and neither is one

presentation.”

It was in that instant that I understood her motive. If I was able to, for the extent

of one song, perform onstage and grasp that I would arrive home in one piece that

night, then I could survive presenting in Spanish for a total of three minutes. Without

hesitation, I made my way towards the stage. After skimming through the thick book

comprised of hundreds of songs, I fearlessly selected Vanessa Carlton’s “A Thousand

Miles”. The stage was set, literally. Straightaway, as the song’s melody arose, I felt as

though every afternoon I had spent belting those sensational lyrics in the car had led up

to this. I felt like Jennifer Grey being held up by Patrick Swayze during their iconic

dance scene in Dirty Dancing. I let go of all hesitations and fears and allowed ecstasy to

consume me from my fingertips to my toes. In retrospect, singing a Vanessa Carlton

song in the midst of a room predominantly filled with inebriated thirty-somethings is

vaguely different than presenting in front of twenty high school students. The only

significant detail that mattered in that definitive moment was that I had evaded my

introverted ways and immersed myself in the heartbeat of those three minutes and fifty-

eight seconds.

The topic of that particular Spanish presentation is now faint in the back of my

mind. Having said that, I can still recall the euphoric sensation I felt singing “A Thousand

Miles” onstage. To my revelation, I received the most favorable grade I had ever

received on anything in that class, all while spending the night before listening to lively

people sing inferior covers of songs. What my mom implied was genuine, the

presentation was so trivial in the grand scheme of everything. Regardless of how well I
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had done, it was still merely a presentation. That influential night and her valuable

words allowed me to approach the presentation as I approached karaoke: dive in

without any hesitation or doubt.

The most inconvenient and strenuous part of being an introvert is that you are

typically never truly prepared. At least, it seldom feels as though you are. My mom

acknowledged that fear within me. She understood that it was not significant if the

presentation was the following day or if I miraculously developed a flu and did not arrive

at school until the following week. I would still be reserved and the notion of presenting

in Spanish, or any other language, would be spine-chilling. Consequently, this grueling

task became a jubilant, rapturous tradition. Without exception, ahead of every

demanding presentation I had throughout high school, my mom invariably made sure

that I had an experience the night beforehand to evoke a reminder that the world is vast

and a high school presentation is an inconsequential part of it. Escaping my own

apprehensive fears for that one night granted me an escape route I could access for

every daunting task that I encountered as a student in the future.