"Got Your Nose"

“Got yer noze,” I heard a male voice mumble. “No, you don’t!”, I heard a soft deliberate reply. “Yes, I do! See right here,” he laughed as he presented his right hand, palm up with his thumb squeezed firmly between his index and middle finger to represent her nose. They both giggled aloud oblivious to my presence. I watched, while more listened, as this adorable couple with Down’s Syndrome walked towards me on the river pathway. Repeating this comedic drama over and over as they laughed louder with each act. He would pretend to grab her nose over and over, laughing harder each time. Their voices so sincere. Their love overflowing so much, I almost tripped over it. I could still hear them carrying on as they passed. I swore they were laughing so hard stuff was actually coming out of their noses and possibly his thumb as well.

I began to laugh aloud as this image danced through my mind. Could there be a better way to start the day? To see love in its purest form.

It was also the biggest reality check I could get to remind me of my disorder/fear/excuse or whatever I was calling it this week. My mom said I was born shy, seven days late, she’d tease I was too shy to come out of her tummy. There was no joking how real this fear was to me. I was extremely shy in general, however when it came to people of the female persuasion I was scared to tears when it came to talking with them, making eye contact, or the thought of a conversation.

I had worked hard at trying to overcome my fear through therapy. I’ve read more self-help books than most libraries possessed. I tried to disguise my fears, bury them, overcome them, battle through, adapt to them. I tried jogging them away, hypnotize them away, and more recently meditate them away. I tried to tranquilize them, harmonize with them, and self-medicate them. I had done everything I could find, everything except conquer them. I tried following the experts’ advise to simply smile at a female, but it always ended in disaster. I could speak to the woman in my family, but that’s where my brain drew the line.

School was hard for me - it was exhausting being such an outcast. The trouble with fear is that the more you let it control you, the more it takes over. I became a puppet to its power. I longed to be the one holding the strings. It became so awkward that my family decided to home school me at an early age.

While my friends were starting to date, I had become an expert at avoiding. I wanted to date so bad, I practiced dating scenarios with my sister. Desperate times called for desperate measures, I had passed the desperation stage years ago.

I celebrated my 21st birthday with a few other outcast friends, mostly because none of them had girlfriends either. My parents had spent most of their money on therapy with no results and their present to me was to inform me that I was on my own from here on. They were not financing my transformation any longer. It was now up to me. I, James Roberts, was in charge now.

Then my reality took a real hit. First, my sister moved away to go to University. I wondered if she moved so far away just to get away from me. My parents had put so much pressure on her to try and help me. I can’t imagine how hard that was for her. Shortly after, my Mother went into the hospital with a headache and she never came home again passing away less than three weeks later.

The day of her funeral was my most difficult yet. I had to go. I knew that everyone would console me, especially all the women. I wasn’t sure I could do it? I would go and put on my brave face for her. I promised myself I would not have a break down, that I could make it through the day, maybe even talk to a girl?

Yea Right!

Before I knew it, it was over. I had survived, no incidents. As I laid my head on the pillow, I vowed to conquer this head on. I laughed aloud at the irony of the timing of that statement.

I awoke at the crack of dawn, motivated.

Then it started all over again. Who was I kidding? How do you conquer something head on when you can’t even look it in the eye? I spent the day in bed fantasizing about being normal. I had never looked a girl in the eye, held her hand, or heard her laugh, unless of course she was laughing at me.

I had to start somewhere.

What if I started with one simple act? One simple word spoken to a stranger? It had been suggested before, and I failed dearly, could I do it now? It felt as if I had changed overnight, perhaps I was ready. I devised the most fool proof plan ever. I’d go to the grocery store checkout and say one simple word - hello.

Brilliant!

After building up the courage for three days, I ventured out. Several attempts later, I approached the checkout stand and found myself being next in line. I purposefully chose an older cashier that looked eerily like my mother. My turn came up. I launched myself forward attempting to be invisible, I blasted out “HELLO”. She closed her eyes and snapped her head back like I had slapped her with two solid syllables. “Hello back” she said with a certain smugness on her smiling face. “How are you?” she asked politely. I wasn’t prepared for this, she didn’t stick to the plan! It was supposed to be one simple word. Why had she gone and said more? I wanted to race from the till fast as I could. I stared down at my feet daring them to engage, but nothing, I was frozen. I could feel her stare at me, when suddenly with the sweetest voice she could muster she calmly said, “It’s ok Sweetie, you don’t have to be shy, I understand”. That was it, nothing more, “I understand”.

Those words resonated with me for the next few days, as I gathered up more courage to try the process again. If only there was a courage store I could got to, I’d load up on it.

As I set my few items on the counter, she quickly broke the tension. She began “Hello my new shy friend, my name is Helen, there’s no need to be shy around me…ever”. I felt like a vice immediately squeezed around my entire body. Taking a deep breathe, I reluctantly looked up and verified her name with her name tag. Before I knew it, I was looking her in the eyes. A peculiar smile approached my face and quickly disappeared. “Thank you,” was all I could muster, as I raced out of the store, items in hand.

I nailed it!

The next morning, I was back again buying groceries I didn’t need. There she was again, her compassionate demeanor calming my accelerated heartbeat. “You’ve come back again? You are a hungry boy lately”? I smiled at her triumphantly and stated “Yes, I’ve been working up an appetite these days.” She winked at me and said, “Keep up the good work”. Within months of my new therapy sessions, we were exchanging complete sentences. If my therapists could see me now.

This was the extent of my social mastery. Knowing my limits, I ventured to the store again. I arrived in line and noticed that there was no Helen here today. How could she do this to me? What was I going to do? I’d become accustomed to eating regularly now! Then out of nowhere came an unfamiliar voice, a soft female voice, “I can help you over here.” I tried to ignore it, but she was having none of it. “Excuse me, I can help you over here”, she repeated. I looked over to see a beautiful girl about my age. No way, was I going near that! She was everything I feared. However, her smiling eyes dragged me over like a tractor beam right out of the sci-fi movies. Look away, look away, I kept thinking but it was too late, I was following my feet over like a reluctant dance partner. My mouth became dry as the Sahara. Her name tag read Lily, a very petite oriental girl even prettier than the flower she was named after.

I felt like Frankenstein plucking his first flower as I battled my way through our “conversation”. To my surprise, I survived - more or less. I danced home triumphantly shouting “I spoke to a girl, a beautiful girl”! I wished I had a cape to put over my shoulders.

Over time I found myself making excuses to stop by the store, waving hello to Helen as I approached Lily’s till. I was actually having conversations, smiling, looking her in the eye. I dug deep for the courage to ask her out. I longed for my first date. I felt like I was gaining control, but still lacked the confidence to follow through. I had to up my game.

I spent my 22nd birthday alone, though not completely, as I imagined Lily and I walking along a pathway, me grabbing her nose, and displaying it for her, as we laugh aloud.

A couple of days later I approached her till and I could sense her excitement, perhaps it was the larger than life smile, perhaps it was just me? After my rather formal “Hello”, she coyly asked me if I had plans for this coming Saturday? I gulped out a “no”. “Good”, she said “you can come over to my place for dinner. It will be casual”. I was speechless. My thoughts were racing, they were interrupted with an abrupt “James, can you make it”? “Yes, Yes, of course, I’d be delighted.”

What was I thinking! What had I got myself into? I couldn’t pull this off. She’d see right though my fear and eat me alive! The next two days seemed like a week, or so it felt. I grabbed a bottle of Merlot and headed out on my first date. Oh Boy!

As I poured a glass, she could sense my tension. My shaking forced me to mis pour the wine on the countertop. “It’s ok,” she proclaimed calmly putting her hand on mine and finish pouring. “Helen told me about your shyness - you can relax and be yourself around me”. She whispered, we did a toast, and I was able to catch my breathe.

Lily was a tremendous cook. After we ate, we sat by the fireplace, the Merlot really helped the conversation. I found myself sharing details I had never verbalized before. Her compassion was as apparent as my attraction. We talked late into the evening. As I opened the door to leave, she touched my arm. Turning, she approached and kissed me, tenderly and passionately. After some time, I gasped as I had literally forgot to breathe.

We said our goodnights and planned a walk for the next day.

Was it possible? Had I actually pulled off my first date? Shared a meal and a bottle of Merlot with my dream girl - and, I’d kissed her - with authority! I am the man!

What had I been so afraid of? Girls weren’t scary. They were kind, considerate, and caring. I had feared women like some scary monster to avoid, one that could destroy you with simple look, or conversation. Now here I was wanting to embrace life. At this point, I was content with getting to know one girl. One incredible soul that had thoroughly touched mine.

If my Mom could see me now.