What is the stupidest thing you did this year? What about in your whole life? You can take stupid to mean: embarrassing, dangerous, funny, lame, whatever you consider “stupid.” —Kassie

I have very healthy self-esteem which allows me to blithely forget the stupid things I do. At least, I assume that’s what happens, because I know for a fact that I do stupid stuff all the time (ask my husband, I’m sure he could tell you a story or ten), but nothing is jumping to mind from this past year.

However, I do vividly remember the moment I realized that looking stupid and being embarrassed was not only not gonna kill me, but that it in fact was even kinda fun. I was 10 years old, it was the last day of fourth grade, and my class was playing games and goofing off after we helped move the chairs and desks from our classroom to storage (I went to a small parochial school so the students were also occasionally slave labor). My friend Jenny, who was super outgoing and hilarious and had inexplicably picked me to be her best friend in our class, offered to lead everyone in the motions of some song we were singing, and without asking she grabbed my hand and dragged me to the front of the class with her.

Now, back then I was shy. I hated being the center of attention. I hated being looked at. I didn’t like being singled out for criticism or praise. I just wanted to be left alone to read my book and fade into the wallpaper. The fact that Jenny had dragged me up to the front of the class with her to wave my arms and jump around like a giant dork in front of everyone should have made me freeze and then run for the hills like a scared rabbit. But over the course of that year I had slowly changed.

Being friends with Jenny was a big part of that change. She was so confident and unafraid to be weird and silly, and she was awesome. If someone like her thought it was okay to risk being laughed at, maybe it wasn’t so bad after all. The other major component of that change was that I’d moved from a big public school where there were three classes of 30 kids in each grade to a small school where my entire grade only had 12 kids in it. So not only were there fewer people for me to embarrass myself in front of, but they were people who had not known me my whole life. They didn’t have preconceived notions of who I was and what I would or wouldn’t do. It’s always a little easier to break out of a rut when everyone around you doesn’t keep pushing you back into it.

When Jenny pulled me to the front of the class so I could sing and do the motions to a silly camp song with her, my heart was pounding and my mouth was dry and I felt like I might throw up. But I threw caution to the wind and did it. I sang the heck out of that song (strangely, although I can remember the moment perfectly in other ways, I have no memory of what the song was) and I acted out the stupid motions while everyone was looking at me and laughing good-naturedly as they sang along.

When we were done, I felt idiotic and shaky and completely exhilarated. I couldn’t believe that I’d done it. I’d looked moderately stupid in front of a bunch of my peers and I was still standing and breathing and if anyone was making fun of me I didn’t even care, because at that moment I started understanding that when you’re willing to risk looking stupid sometimes, life is a lot more fun.

I’m taking part in a blogging group called Reverb Broads that will be suggesting daily blogging prompts this December. It’s unlikely that I’ll do it every day, but I’ll be using them occasionally throughout the month as they tickle my fancy. If you want to join in, feel free! Go here or here to learn more.

If the you of today could go back in time and give advice to any of the previous yous, which age would you visit and what would you tell them? –Kristen

Dear 18-year-old Bethany,

Look, I know that the rehearsals would take a lot of time and you’re a bit unsure how you’d feel about singing and possibly dancing up on stage in front of all those people, but just try out for your school musical. It’s one of your favorite musicals, one that you’re going to see almost a dozen times over the next 19 years—from a couple of high schools, to the Mount Helix amphitheater, to the nearly-professional performance at the Lawrence Welk Theater which included that guy from the Padres-on-Channel-4 commercial and the dude who was Dean Cain’s stand-in on “Lois and Clark”—and you are really, really going to regret missing the opportunity to do it when you had the chance. Just do the musical. You’ll have fun.

Sincerely,
36-year-old Bethany

I’m taking part in a blogging group called Reverb Broads that will be suggesting daily blogging prompts this December. It’s unlikely that I’ll do it every day, but I’ll be using them occasionally throughout the month as they tickle my fancy. If you want to join in, feel free! Go here or here to learn more.