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A few years ago, when I complained to my latest, greatest, and now past therapist that I didn't want to go to some party I was invited to, I'd be bored, have nothing to say to people--whom I wouldn't like and who wouldn't like me--she pinned me with her penetrating gaze and said, "You're a shy person."
I didn't believe my therapist. Even though I did remember suffering paroxysms of dread whenever I might be called on in elementary school, and how I would sit for an hour salivating in front of a candy bowl at a relative's and still refuse the candy once it had been offered because I was too shy. But that was a long time ago. Shy adults can't make eye contact; they ...