Miss Shy

As a child and a teenager, I was always pretty shy.  I hated having to speak in class.  I dreaded being that student who had to work a math problem out on the chalk board for fear of making a fool of myself in front of my classmates.  I preferred to stay in the background. 


When it came time for us to do speeches in ninth grade, I remember making myself absolutely sick with worry the entire week before.  I was red in the face, sweaty palms, so nervous when I finally had to give the speech.  I can't remember what it was on, and I remember it was for only four minutes.  Longest four minutes ever.  Why did we have to give oral homework?  Why couldn't everything be written?  I was great at that.  But speaking in front of others?  Heck no.  Not for me. 


That's why sometimes I think it's humorous to those who knew me growing up when they hear about what I do.  I was reminiscing one day with my oldest friend, someone who has known me since fifth grade, and she laughed and made the comment that never in a million years would she have ever pictured me as an attorney.  Thinking about it myself, honestly, I kind of agree with her.  How could a girl who was petrified of speaking in front of a classroom for just four minutes possibly picture herself doing an all day termination of parental rights trial.  Or teaching a training in front of a room of about thirty attorneys?  No freaking way. 


I am honestly not sure when it happened.  It probably was my very first court hearing.  I had possibly the worst client ever.  It was a child support issue.  He was demanding, unreasonable, and completely difficult.  I walked in there not really prepared, and I was up against one of those types - the old, white man attorney in a small town who knew the judge, knew every attorney in town, was one of the good old boys, and here I was - a fresh, new attorney and a female one at that.  I was totally unprepared for it.  And trust me when I say the hearing was a massacre.  Baptism by fire is the only way I can describe it.  But it was my first hearing.  I ripped off the Bandaid. 


I didn't get too many divorce hearings after that before I was laid off.  My next job involved training attorneys on legal research software.  That was intimidating in and of itself.  I was training attorneys who had so many years up on me in practicing law.  Who was I to teach them anything?  But I did it.  And with each training it got easier and easier. 


But really, I think the kicker that pushed me over the edge of being petrified of public speaking was working with the Indiana Department of Child Services.  I worked in the biggest county in our state, and sadly, we had so many cases, it was like an assembly line of child abuse cases.  I had my own docket once a week where I handled 30 hearings at any given time, and I also handled a set of termination of parental rights cases.  My very first trial lasted me four days.  Eight hour days at that.  Again, baptism by fire.   It was shortly after that when I developed no fear.  You kind of had to when you were questioning a parent on the stand who did such awful things to their child.  You basically learn to do pretty much anything in terms of public speaking.  And somewhere along the line, I started to enjoy it.  (I'm not going to lie.  I got a great deal of pleasure from totally grilling a parent who abused their child and tearing them apart on the stand.)


It's amazing to look back and see that progression.  I'm no longer that scared little girl.  Honestly, if I went to my high school reunion, I would have no fear in talking to anyone.  Not even those "popular" kids who intimidated me so much in my younger days.  Because I just don't care what they think of me anymore.  They're just people.  No different than I am.  And if I can fight in the courtroom, I can do just about anything else.  No more Miss Shy.


I hope that, as a parent, I can give my daughter that confidence.  No fear.  You're as good as anyone else, and you shouldn't be scared of speaking up for yourself and presenting yourself in a confident and polished manner.  Someone asked on Twitter the other day what would be one of the best gifts you can give your child.  And I answered with the word "confidence."  Because that's what I hope to inspire in my daughter some day.