Monday, September 26, 2005
Introversion: Descriptions of Me
Large, messy conversations drain me. Being around family and friends sucks my energy dry after a few hours. I'm an introvert. Get to know me.DO YOU KNOW someone who needs hours alone every day? Who loves quiet conversations about feelings or ideas, and can give a dynamite presentation to a big audience, but seems awkward in groups and maladroit at small talk? Who has to be dragged to parties and then needs the rest of the day to recuperate? Who growls or scowls or grunts or winces when accosted with pleasantries by people who are just trying to be nice? —Caring for Your Introvert by Jonathan Rauch
Okay, so my friends already know, that I need space, tons of space. I’ve often been encouraged to be more outgoing, nicer, kinder, more engaging or engaged. I know my friends and family worry about me being alone. But I like being alone. In fact, I require being alone. Not all the time mind you, because as much as I despise people, I love them as well.
So when I happened upon the article, “Caring for Your Introvert” by Jonathan Rauch, written for the Atlantic Monthly, I was pleased. Not because, I had an intense desire to shove the article in the face of my friends and say “nah, nah, nah” but because, there were things that just stuck with me about the article.
The truth is, I’ve known I’m an introvert for along time. Once when I was seven or eight, I heard some adult say something akin to, “...well she’ll never be gregarious, but at least she’s smart; that should help.” Well, I was smart enough to realize it wasn’t a compliment about my personality and big enough to pick up a dictionary and look up the word “gregarious”. I can’t recall if that made me sad or angry. In my memory, I’m just kind of accepting. “So fine,” I’m not sociable, a people person. I was pretty certain they weren’t all they’re supposed to be either.
By high school, I had more than accepted the label, I had embraced it. I didn’t go around saying, “I’m an introvert.” But I had somehow misapplied the statement of being non-gregarious to not liking people, so I just started saying I didn’t really like people. To my friends and to myself, I’ve made millions of statements reaffirming that belief, but its not true. And as I was reading Jonathan’s article, what struck me was how much a lie it was.
I do like people. I like having long conversations; verbal wordplay; someone to call to share a joke with; people to do things with; and people to care about. In fact, I love taking care of my friends and family—figuring out what they need, what they want, what I can give them . I just don’t like people, including friends and family to be around all the time. Jonathan says, “...introverts are people who find other people tiring.” It’s true. As much as I love my friends and family, they wear on me like fingernails on a chalk board. It’s like, I’m a battery, and they drain me; and when they go away, slowly me energy is restored until I reach a point of excess, then I need to be around people, again.
For me the perfect combination is not to be fully drained. I prefer, 1-3hr cycles of on, with 6-8hrs of off. Now that doesn’t include phone calls and random conversations or visits. My job, a glorified customer service personnel—oh, alright, I’m an executive director of a nonprofit organization that provides technology solutions and services to other nonprofit and public organizations; but it’s not that different—requires that I’m constantly communicating with people, and while most of them aren’t friends and such, I spend a lot of time and energy being what they need to get things done. So my work typically acts as a slow drain, cause I can go on for hours doing it; and a good solution or a successful conversation brings a charge. I do love it. But my friends and family are really the large drains.
Trust me, that’s not as insulting as it sounds. And I realize it sounds insulting. But I should also state, that my friends and family charge me as well—massive emotional and energy rushes—which is or can be great, but overtime debilitating. I either get too empty or too full, and just need them to go away. Not too far, just elsewhere.
Have you ever watched the movie, D.E.B.S.? It’s a fairly, fast-paced lesbian spy comedy. It’s fun. I digress for a reason, so hang in there. One of the D.E.B.S., Amy Bradshaw who falls for notorious criminal, Lucy Diamond scored a perfect score on the entrance exam. No one really knows what the entrance exam measures, but they all assumed the perfect score would make the perfect spy, ergo, Amy Bradsaw, perfect spy. Except she’s not. She’s exceptionally good without even trying, but she doesn’t love it. She’s playing a part. She get’s tired of playing the part, and starts wondering about love versus loyality; then finally asks, what the test measured. Come to find out, Ms. Bradshaw is the perfect liar.
The perfect liar. Which brings me to the next statement by Mr. Rauch, that rang true to me, “...many introverts, when socializing, feel like actors.” Have you ever wondered what it would take to be the perfect liar. The perfect liar is an actor playing the part of “this is my life.” Constantly adapting to other peoples expectations, constantly changing parameters and variables on what it requires to keep a situation moving, going forward to some conclusion. Amy Bradshaw was the perfect liar because she was willing and able to act any role assigned to her. Introverts are, not perfect liars, but actors in their lives with others.
When socializing, people expect you to be charged, on, bouncing with energy and enthusiasm. Extroverts thrive here. And oddly enough, a fair number of introverts fair well here as well. At least I do. I can turn it on. I can be charming, gracious, slightly peppy, and all those other terms that people are so enthusiastic about. I can lead a crowd or disappear in it. The truth is I prefer to disappear. Not totally, but I’d rather be completely present to one or two people, then vivacious to fifty. I use to run a number of different activist organization. If you know anything about activism, you should know that most successful activism requires a charismatic leader. I was pretty successful in what I did; but I hated it. Not the causes, just the constant requirement to always be on, to always be what was needed for the situation. Need a rable rouser? Here I am. Need a motivator? Step right up. Need a shoulder to cry on? Mine’s pretty big. Need, so and so legislation changed or a way to bypass it? Sit with me, I’ve got a plan.
And like, Amy Bradshaw, one day I just quit. The causes were the causes—hunger, poverty, discrimination, rape, sexual assult, queer identity, funding for medicaid, an ever growing list. They were always going to be there, and always need someone working on them. I knew that they all needed charismatic leaders, I just realized that I didn’t have to be one. With that realization, I became more like myself than I had been for such a long time. I took morning walks, got an antisocial cat, started a garden, indulged myself in reading, and music; and took to discovering other ways to indulge my friends—small gifts, random calls to say, I miss you, listening more intensely. It’s created a balance.
As an introvert, I can honestly say, I don’t need much care—and maybe that’s the sign of true introversion. I telephone call here and there, a random stop by to say “hi!” or to watch a movie, and I’m good to go. You’ve made my list of good friends. I do like people; I love good conversations; and am excited by verbal wordplay (whit is an aphrodisiac). Good people, good fun, good conversation. Those are the things I love, but I need respite—just me a quiet house, some music, a book or television, for uninterrupted hours. It’s good stuff.
I won’t deny, I can be shy on occasion as well. But I wouldn’t consider myself timid or lacking in self-confidence. I am often apprehensive about meeting new people; but rarely due to considerations of personal inadequacies. I’m generally concern about when, and where I’ll need to be rude, abrupt to get them to go away or to just get me away from them. No offense, I’m certain your nice; and I’m sure I’d like you if I got to know you; but really, I’m still trying to get my love one’s to leave me alone; so could you go away. You see the conundrum.
Anyway, reading Jonathan’s article, allowed me to really think about introversion and what it is and isn’t. And while, I’m certain it’s a work in progress, dispell, some of my old notions that being introverted meant not liking people; and being otherwise malformed.
Footnotes
Introversion: The Often Forgotten Factor Impacting the Gifted by Jill D. Burruss and Lisa Kaenzig
Other Details
Categories: Personal •Society •
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Permalink: http://www.wide-eyed.org/main/article/introversion_descriptions_of_me/
Comments
- On 10/03/2005, says:
Cheers! Introverts of the world unite! I stumbled across your site by accident, and found this bit even more by accident, but I have to tell you, it makes me pretty happy...
I’ve been called everything from shy to a flat out b...well, you know. The extroverted friends of my friends say “why doesn’t she like me?” and then I have to be super bubbly and fake the next time I see them. I have a few close friends who I can talk to for hours, but am perfectly happy with to be alone for hours on end with my books, and my music, and my dog. nice to know I’m not alone.
- On 10/04/2005, Alnisa Allgood says:
Welcome Deb. I love stumbling across things on the internet. In fact, Rauch’s site lead me to discover Cognitive Daily. Which is, rapidly, becoming one of my daily favorites. Here’s to good books and good friends. Hip-hip!!!