I don't want to stay a recluse all my life. Actually, I don't want to stay a recluse much longer, or even any longer.
But getting out and into interaction does prove slightly problematical. There are metaphorical billboards every other step that say "Stop! You don't know what you're doing!" OK, they come from within my head, but they remain quite real.
Social activities have rules that are very strong even though they're unacknowledged. Some social situations, especially, seem almost like dances, with step following step reliant on each party knowing what comes next. And I find myself totally untrained in the basics, let alone the niceties.
That's OK if it's just me. I don't mind admitting to being a bit weird due to my background, and I've found in many other kinds of scenarios that it is better to freely admit ignorance than to have people see you're trying to pretend. But I do feel sorry for the others involved sometimes, because it must be like trying to play a game in which one of the players has no clue, and that puts everybody else off. It makes for awkwardness, which is exactly what you don't want if you're trying to have an enjoyable time.
I am assured by various people, sometimes even those affected by my social ignorance, that everybody feels like this to some extent. I'm sure they do, just as I have lost count of the times I have been told by old people that they still often feel like children pretending to be adults. Surely, though, most people by my age have at least developed coping mechanisms, and have learned what to do in the majority of commonly encountered situations. I'm still encountering most of them for the first time. I wish there was a crash course in what people are expecting of me.
So far, my prime principles are openness and watchfulness. If I don't know what someone means, I ask. If I suspect something is expected, but I don't know what it is, I ask. If I don't know the answer to a query, I say so. But then, for all I know, this could become annoying as well. So I am careful to watch how people are reacting. It all sounds very considered, and it may be. Perhaps that isn't a good thing either.
People are kind, on the whole. And all I can hope is that before too long I will be natural enough that I can simply enjoy society without the strain of treating every encounter as a lesson too. One thing is for sure: if I stay home for fear of being different, I'll never get anywhere.
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I vividly remember the first Christmas-time after I had left the brethren and everyone was having their office parties and so forth. A kindly lass invited me to her office party - held in the Palais de Dance - a ballroom in the South Side of Glasgow.
I was like a turtle out of its shell. I was too embarrassed to admit I had never been in such a place before, far less know how to dance with a partner (that happened in those days before the Twist!) and to this day I still have two left feet.
Shortly after that, I quickly gave up pretending I was normal and just took each day as it came - and the same thing is happening to me every day over 45 years later!
You remark: "Surely, though, most people by my age have at least developed coping mechanisms,"
Oh, how I wish that were true! There is no crash course my friend. Just be yourself. I think you'll survive, if you will excuse the pun.
You can look forward to worse: My kids groan "Oh, Dad" in certain social situations!
Perhaps it's worth making the obvious point that life in the world outside brethrenism involves a lot of discreet social groups between which there isn't much interaction anyway; each of them having their own rules choreographed as you describe. For each individual the social group or groups into which one fits are determined gradually and developmentally over time. A schoolteacher unexpectedly invited to a dinner party consisting mostly of, say, lawyers would feel out of place even though the social gap isn't as great as, say, that between a garbage disposal practitioner and the lawyers. However, if they were all members of the local sailing club it would be much easier. Which makes the point that being focussed on what the activity of the group is rather than the interactions within the group is the means by which the difficulties you describe can be overcome. It's a sort of situation in which the desired outcome is achieved by concentrating on a different aim altogether. Easy to say of course...
Most people respond positively if you take an interest in them and their concerns.
In the past three or four years I've had a number of 'meetings' with Exclusive Brethren people. One of the most noticeable features of these occasions has been their inability to inquire about my life or my family, although in response to my courteous "How are you?" they often seem willing to tell me about their personal, intimate medical details and about their family etc.
I can certainly see that it may be difficult for you. Just be yourself and take a genuine (but not intrusive) interest in the people you meet. You'll have a ball!
Joan's comment makes me a little uncomfortable, as it's something I keep being aware of, and wishing in retrospect I'd been more enquiring. I know it's a good thing, and I am interested, but it's hard work knowing what kinds of question to ask, and the default option is to simply react to whatever the other person says. That means that often they don't say much about themselves.
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