This is an embarrassing post for me to write. It is one that I write with a great deal of hesitation because I am about to write about a flaw of mine that is difficult for me to accept. When I identify it here, some may think that it is insignificant or funny.  Trust me when I tell you that I find nothing funny about it whatsoever. No matter how small or unimportant it may seem to you, it is a HUGE deal to me.

No kidding.

Okay. Here it goes.

I am loud.

That’s it, and that fact bothers me so much that, even after I just wrote that sentence, I had to pause in my typing as the words resounded through my mind.

I hate being loud.  I dislike loud people.  I find most of them to be obnoxious attention-grabbers. I find them disturbing and boorish, and I try to avoid them at all costs.

And yet, I am loud.

I did not realize that fact about myself until the last year or so. I must have been picking up unspoken vibes about my volume, because lately I’ve found myself wondering about it. And then, the other night, a person who barely knows me made the comment that his first impression of me could be summed up in one word: “Loud”.

When I heard that, I felt like I had been slapped across the face. It was a very sound and concrete affirmation of one of my worst personal fears.

Now, granted, the only place that this person has ever seen me is at The Burton Leavitt Theater and in The Main Street Café. Both of these places are always filled with background noise from the crowds, and I have a hard time hearing in crowded places. So I have a tendency to be loud there.

My sweet wife tells me that those are the ONLY places where she notices me being loud. (And, after she says that, she ALWAYS adds, “But your friends LOVE it because you are really funny, and they thoroughly enjoy you! . . . That’s why I love her so much!)

I find myself wondering if my volume is disturbing to others, and they are just too polite to tell me so. Guess I’ll never know on that one, but I surely would like to eliminate that personal question in the future by toning down the decibel level a tad.

I have always admired the quiet ones. The ones who get their points across in a quiet, self-assured way. Gary Cooper. Clint Eastwood. Geoffrey Rush.

I know that that behavior is foreign to me. I like attention. I like telling stories. I like making people laugh. I like having people like me. 

I guess that comes from a rough childhood when I was convinced that I was stupid, unlikable and unlovable.

I guess I over-compensate for those past feelings of inadequacy.

However, I am not one to dwell on the past. Nor do I wish to pass the blame of my faults onto others.  (I hate the victim mentality!) I take full responsibility for my actions. I am what I am, and I chose to change who I am, at least in some ways, right now.

I suppose I could say that my loudness in part comes from my hearing loss.  I’m sure that may be part of it, but, if that’s the case, then I still have to learn to alter my volume accordingly. (I am always amazed when I speak in what I think are low or almost inaudible tones, and people across the table in a crowded restaurant or bar can hear what I’m saying!)

It would be nice, once in a while, to have people lean forward and ask me to repeat what I just said.