When I am
genuinely happy, I tend to express it
physically.
I jump up and down, I clap my hands, I laugh and shout. When I get good news, I reflexively clap my hands, usually
three times. I bounce up and down in my chair when I'm sitting, I hop up and down when I'm standing. Nobody had ever commented on this, other than strange looks, until I met my boyfriend's
father.
My boyfriend's father is
blind. He was not born blind, but rather became blind as a complication from
juvenile diabetes when he was in his late thirties (if I remember correctly). The nervousness of meeting a parent was a little amplified when I met John's dad - I felt sure I would lead him into a tree branch or send him down a flight of stairs accidentally. Thankfully, that didn't happen. I have tripped him up a curb since then, but it was purely out of treating him as a sighted companion, and forgetting to tell him.
One of the first days I spent with him, we got
cheese curds from one of the
supermarkets in Minnesota. I was overjoyed at this, and clapped my hands repeatedly, while scarfing down cheddary squeaky cheese. Later that night, John's dad asked me about the
clapping... and told me after my explanation that it was a wonderful thing. Being blind, he couldn't tell for sure what
emotions people were having - but now he was assured of always knowing when I was very
happy.