In high school, I hated pep rallies — but I wasn’t sure why.
I just knew I felt uncomfortable when the band was playing and everybody was excited and cheering. I felt oddly out of place. I never told anybody this, but I felt embarrassed of myself. I didn’t clap or cheer or whatever else the crowd around me was doing.
I felt horribly conflicted, although I didn’t understand that at the time. Part of me was excited by the music and cheering and chanting — but I was afraid to let myself go. I was afraid to feel anything. And that made these public displays of emotional frenzy seem very dangerous to me.
I felt coldly numb as I grew up. In middle school, some kids laughingly called me “Spockelroy,” which was someone’s clever mixture of “Spock” and “McElroy.” I was the brilliant rationalist who didn’t feel anything — and who never expressed emotions.
I understand why now.
The loss of my mother had hurt me more than I understood. My fear of my father’s unpredictable narcissistic rage was constant. I had learned that I got into trouble if I expressed my unhappiness.
I learned to remain numb. Not to feel. It was how I survived.

Pearl Harbor: Simple sneak attack or culmination of FDR’s plan for war?
I’ve struggled to finally believe there’s more than one ‘right way’
Obama’s new ‘AttackWatch.com’ website smells like political fear
My drive to be perfect led to lack of compassion for self and others
How can we be lonely while we’re surrounded by billions of people?
Why do we consider it shallow to crave beauty in romantic partner?
Briefly: Maybe some of us need training in how to be happy
Briefly: Lucy’s been meeting little girls in her neighborhood tonight
Briefly: Unschooling is family-centered learning without classrooms or curriculum