My Inner Wimp

This probably won’t come as a shock to you, dear reader, but I'm quite opinionated--at least on paper.  When it comes to voicing my ideas to an actual flesh-and-blood person, however, my inner wimp occasionally emerges.

Earlier this week, for example, I said to the producer of the TV show I host, “I think we should do more close-ups of our guests.”  Her response was, shall I say, tepid.

I backpedaled.  “No problem,” I replied.  “You’re the expert.”  

“Do you feel strongly about this?” she asked.

“I do,” I answered. 

“Then don’t back down,” she said crisply.  “Stand by your words.”

She’s so right.  When you feel strongly about something, you shouldn’t waffle.  You should have the courage of your convictions.  In this case, I’m the face of our show and have a vested interest in its quality.  I only backed down because I didn’t want to be seen as a pushy you-know-what.

I've been struggling with this for years, as you can see by the following tongue-in-cheek rhyme I wrote back in the '90's:

I’m trying to find my inner bitch

to let her out to play,

but just at the moment she finally appears

I struggle and push her away.

Like sirens luring sailors

to certain death by the sea,

I guess I think my inner bitch

will somehow capsize me.

Yet, even though I must confess

I know she’s friend, not foe,

I have these silly fears inside

and just can’t quite let go.

I’m not sure whether wimping out is a woman thing or a character flaw.  But I do know this:  If you want to fly, you can’t be afraid to ruffle a few feathers.