When I tell my children of my shyness and how painfully unsure of myself  I was during my childhood and early adult years, they question if I am being truthful. The story sounds made up, to them. But it is true. I spent most of my first twenty-some years quietly looking around, unsure of myself and the world. I preferred to watch people, instead of participate; listen to people, instead of talk. I tried to avoid situations where I needed to talk in front of others and where I felt under the spotlight. I hated being asked something I wasn’t sure of. When asked a question, my mind usually went blank, then churned like a slot machine circling madly to land on the correct answer. Didn’t all questions have a right and wrong answer? I was terribly afraid of choosing the wrong one. With Continue Reading