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Social Dragonfly

The other night my husband dragged me kicking and screaming to a church social. Don’t get me wrong; it’s not church I’m opposed to, although I’d it like it much better if it were shorter—anything over 20 minutes is torture to me. It’s just that I can’t handle socials, church or otherwise.

I have that deceitful kind of personality that makes people think I am enjoying myself as I flit from person to person smiling and joking. I can meet strangers confidently, carry my weight in most conversations and can even speak to large audiences with nary a hand tremor. The problem that lurks within the murky waters of my soul is very simple. I don’t want to go to parties. I don’t want to go to socials. I don’t want to go to meetings and I really don’t want to make small talk. Don't judge me. It's a strange anxiety that I can't seem to control.

This may surprise you but I might actually be what people call a social butterfly. Before you shake your head and roll your eyes ask yourself this. How many butterflies do you know that stick around long enough for a chat? For that matter, how many butterflies do you even know? Maybe they hate going to parties, socials and meetings. I know for a fact they don’t like small talk, probably because life is too fleeting to be trapped in trivia.

On the other hand, perhaps I’m more of a social dragonfly. Dragonflies are a little more ominous. They dart hither and thither, whirring instead of fluttering which is undoubtedly more descriptive of my disposition. I was blessed with only one speed—the speed of a dragonfly. Fly in, fly out, and I’m done.

My husband says I’m more of a social pterodactyl, which could feasibly be true because they were categorically antisocial. It’s my hypothesis that pterodactyls went extinct because their spouses forced them to go to events that ultimately bored them to death.

Just because I don’t want to go to my high school reunion, join the neighborhood lunch bunch, or sit through a long meeting (they’re called bored meetings for a reason) it doesn’t mean I don’t like people. I do. And who knows—next time I’m invited to a social I just might go. But don’t be surprised if I flutter in, dart out and then disappear.