"I want to know, what you're thinking..."

"These non-verbal forms of communication shape our very humanness and our capacity for intimacy (Greenspan, 1999) at barely conscious levels that we carry with us into all of our relating."

I went contra dancing on Saturday and then again on Monday. I noticed that as I would dance, especially the swings, I automatically adapted to my partner. I don't have my own way of swinging in contra, I swing the way my partner indicates. Sometimes it's a stately walk, sometimes its a bouncy twirl and then there is my favorite way, which is a well supported swing. My partner doesn't tell me how to swing, I just read the intention in the body language and follow accordingly. While I do have a tendency to backlead (thank you Fezziwig's) I am a very good follow, at least when it comes to dancing.

I have mentioned that I believe my parents would have scored on the autism scale. They were not comfortable with emotional expression. I learned how to be very sensitive to their feelings and moods; I needed to for basic survival. Whether I just didn't learn normal reactions to body language or if I am just super sensitive, I don't really know. I can't test for it. I just have anecdotal evidence.

• I am very good at predicting what people are thinking and feeling, even if I don't know them well.
• I have been accused of counting cards at more than one casino. I can't count, but most blackjack dealers do, so I just read the dealer and then bet accordingly. I have been walked away from tables because of this.
• I am pretty good at figuring out how to keep a conversation flowing, although I am always scared that I'm dominating it.

I have a love/hate relationship with textual expression. I love it, because I can't tell if people are lying. One thing that was really hard for me as a child is that most people lie, all the time. They do it naturally. I would hear what people said and see that the body language didn't match and being a small child, I would call people on their lies. I could not understand why they would get so angry at me. I think it my first grade teacher who understood and explained to me that people lie to protect children and that I would have to trust that most grownups had the best of intentions. I had to obey if they were a grown up I knew, like a teacher of parent. However, she encouraged me to trust my instincts with strangers.

As I got older, I realized that people do lie, most often to themselves. Body language I read as blatant and obvious deception is often a person's failure to recognize an uncomfortable reality. No one wants to hear my opinion, so I keep it to myself and/or shut down that part of my brain. I love text because even with people I know well, I can communicate with them and not have to shut down a part of my brain.

However, I rely so heavily on body language that if I am face-to-face with a person, what they say is secondary to their tone and how they hold their body and face in relation to me.

It still frustrates me when the body language and the spoken words don't match. It's even worse if there are reasons that I can't trust my own judgement. I know that I am just as likely to lie to myself as anyone else. If I want to believe something I can justify with speculation and hope just like anyone.

Dancing is easy, I can usually figure out what I am supposed to do and the smile I get from my partner is a good reward for my attention. In other circumstances, I can't trust my judgement, I don't know if I am reading correctly and the words and the body language don't match. When that happens I just get frustrated and confused and all of my fight or flight reactions cut in. As a child, misreading someone usually meant getting a severe punishment and humiliated.

It's not easy interacting in a world that I am pretty sure is just waiting for me to screw up. It makes it really hard to just relax and be myself around people. This is what scares me so much about alcohol. After a couple of drinks, I can't read people and I don't care. That is such a wonderful feeling. Such a scary and addictive feeling.