I wish trapidious were a word. Meaning feeling trepidation. There are many times when I am trapidious. This is not because I am worried that I am wrong or going to make a fool of myself, but because people misinterpret my cries for attention as being demanding. The only audience I need is myself. I don’t like the idea that I am coming off as needy.
I am not needy. I love attention, but the attention I seek isn’t necessary from others. I don’t need anything from you and I don’t want people to feel forced to react to me. They can if they want to, but it’s not for them – it’s for me.
Thusly, I feel a constant need to either backtrack and take back my attempts at attention because though you have rightly chalked up my un-coerced dancing to a desperate plea for attention, you don’t need to be the provider of that attention and your misinterpretation annoys me. So, instead of dancing when I feel like, falling over in the street for fun, and providing the world with my loud big-band beatboxing as I exit my home, I keep these things to myself, scared of having to be reprimanded for my desperation. A desperation that leads to trepidation. A trepidation that makes me trapidious.