Heart beating faster than usual. Sweaty palms that you try to dry by wiping against the fabric of your pants. Feeling jittery, fingers fidgeting with whatever comes to hand in order to keep occupied. What if i made a fool of myself? What if they don’t like me? What if screw up and they think i’m a good for nothing? What if what if what if…

Was that how you felt (for those already had the experience before) or imagined to be (for those yet to face this horrible scene) before meeting his/her parent for the first time?

I’m pretty sure that’s how it was or how it might be for most people.

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I am sociable and a chatter-box on rare occasions when i feel confident *coz for some insane reasons i actually feel slim, beautiful and charming on that day. I also am picky with the people i mix with. I have a fundamental need to retain my privacy, my wall, my mask… whatever you call it, when i am with people which include my friends and family. So, friends and family tends to think i’m either too shy or aloof. Less people know half of who i am and even less people actually knows how i feel most of the time.

I am not comfortable being in an awkward state and i hate the awkward silence that comes after. I become anxious and apprehensive constantly thinking of some ways to break the silence but alas have no courage to voice out anything ending in self-blaming on why i couldn’t make the situation better. That is why I despise outing in a big group of people whom i know but don’t know that well.

However, strangers are totally another matter (which i would spare all of you from the story for now). I love talking to strangers coz i know the chances of meeting again is next to zero so there is no need for me to ‘behave’ and ‘control’.

So, what went on in my mind before meeting the parents (in this case parent without a ‘s’) was something a bit different. Instead of worrying about whether the parent will like me or whether i will embarrass myself crazy (although all that came later after the meeting!), i was only afraid of the excruciating awkwardness of the moment to-be.

Conclusion is, i loathe awkwardness.

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True to me prediction, it was so awkward, that i kept begging (behind the parent’s back of course) to go home! I was unsure how to act and react. My good manners gone out the window. I’m sure my mom will be screaming as to why am i so ‘kurang ajar’ if she was there with me.

• Manners imply that i should chat with the family members but being paralyzed with awkwardness kept me quiet.
• Manners imply that i should help prepare dinner but awkwardness kept me from venturing into the kitchen where his mom and sis were cooking. So i hid in his room.
• Manners imply that i should help wash the dishes but awkwardness kept me motionless on the sofa.
• Manners imply that i should bid goodbye before heading home but once again awkwardness kept me from bidding farewell confidently. I only manage a meek squeak of a goodbye.

To summarize it, i think over the next few hours i transformed from an average able girl into a gunk of clumsy goo.
 

Me a gunk of goo after AWKWARD attacked me
 

It’s selfish how i sometimes… uhm, most of the time, take it for granted that my other half often hangs out with my family members. I mean, who am i to say that he feels less awkward with my family when it’s actually the similar situation to him. Who am i to say that my family members are more hospitable than his when different family have their distinctive different culture and up-bringing.

Hmm… I guess it all boils down to tolerance and getting use to… Lesson learnt.
 

******
awkward‘ are there?
That shows how much i hate anything associated with that word.