I remember being with a few girls I sat with in fifth grade. I'd been afraid to go to that class when it started, knowing that none of the close friends I had become used to were in it. But I got along with these girls pretty well and worked on assignments with them. One day, working with only them in the classroom, I decided I needed to get something for the group. As I walked across the room, I became painfully self-conscious, realizing how observable I was in the room alone with these girls whose opinions definitely mattered to me. Of course they didn't just stop the conversation they'd been having to watch my every step across the room, but that's what I imagined. I thought about my arms hanging, limp, useless at my sides. I attacked myself for never having paid any attention to how people moved their arms when they walked. Did they bend their elbows or keep their arms straight? My mind was racing trying to find an image of anyone I knew, just walking. Did they swing their arms just right, and how far from their bodies were their arms? I began walking with my arms sticking out from body at a slight angle, my elbows locked, and my fists clenched for control. That's when what I had dreaded became reality. I had done everything to prevent my sudden fear, and because of that it suddenly happened. One of the girls I had been sitting with said, "Look at Carina! Look at the way she has her arms."
It wasn't mean. It was funny for them, and they probably thought I was laughing with them. I bet I at least smiled, and they still included me. Afterward, I began obsessively observing the way people held their arms as they walked. It was important that I picked up on this knowledge, skill, that everyone seemed to have been given but me.
And of course this is only one event in an on-going series, but I know it was moments like these that I began to fear most and would do anything to avoid.