The Butterfly Effect

It's no secret that over the years many people have accused me--both endearingly and exasperatedly--of being a social butterfly. In general, I like people. I find people interesting and quirky, and oftentimes I like people that no one else does, because I can either a) find that little nugget of redeaming characteristic to keep me tuned in, or b) see the reason they are difficult and work my way around it. And yes, I generally find people interesting enough to spend the extra time trying to work out a way to get along with them.

Typically, I make new friends really easily because I have a pretty outgoing personality. I'm not shy, I don't avoid social situations and I like to ask people a lot of questions to get to know them better. Because of this, I have amassed a large number of friends in the different places I've lived, and I'm fortunate to have venues like e-mail and Facebook so that I'm able to easily keep in touch with them all.

I was talking to my oldest friend the other day, and telling her about what a difficult time I've had meeting people and making acquaintances--let alone, friends--here in Texas. After all, it's been a month, and I have now gone to two story hour events at the local libraries, hoping to meet other parents and their kids. My experience both times was that of sitting with Bryony at a table, while women stood right next to us with their backs to us chatting about something or someone they both knew. Not once did anyone reach out and ask if we were new (which I thought it pretty obvious we were), what our names were, where we were from, or even introduce themeselves. I felt very uncomfortable and out of my comfort zone, a feeling that I don't often have. It was one of isolation.

I realized that I'm used to being the one who already knows people and so it's very easy for me to bring new people into the fold. One of the nicest compliments I received back in Michigan by a new friend I met at a New Mother's group was that she immediately liked me because out of all the women at the meeting, I was the only one who came over and introduced myself to her, making her feel comfortable and welcome at once. I don't even remember doing that, but it made my heart warm to know that I made someone else feel welcome and accepted. But that comes fairly naturally to me because I do like meeting new people and bringing them into my group of friends.

But, I've realized that being outgoing is a completely different ballgame when you're on the other side...that is, you're the one who's waiting to be "brought in" to the group by someone else. During the story hour, Bryony and I just sat there and sat there, and I thought for sure that someone might acknowledge us. After all, this is a military town with people constantly being "new"; everyone keeps telling me that these places tend to be very warm and inviting. Instead, I found during both hour-long events that people stuck to talking to the people they already knew, and a straggler like me was left to fend for myself.

My butterfly wings are starting to look a little faded and worn, so it's about time I get them back into top form. Surely there were other newbies like ourselves there, so I'll just have to search them out and start comversation. If that doesn't work, I think Bryony and I will have to find a new flower patch where the social pickings are a little sweeter.