The first
time I ever learned the definitions for an extrovert and an introvert, and
how what defines each is the source of their energy, I considered it a
revelation. I felt it provided a tidy, logical
justification for so many things I didn't like about myself.
If I go
overboard on the amount of time I spend with others I become insufferable
- short tempered, impatient, depleted. After completing the Meyers Briggs test,
I realized I rated high on the "introvert" scale. It shocked me. It
explained everything.
I am often mistaken for
an extrovert. I process many things, particularly of an emotional or
logistical nature, out loud. I don't mind being the center of attention (that
might be an understatement). I can be extremely chatty. I find humans
delightful and strangers irresistible. I frequently interject in other
people's conversations. (You know that person on the plane who talks to you
even if you're pretending to read? That could be me. I apologize. But your book
looks interesting. What made you pick it?)
I can also be
very quiet, needing large swaths of time for myself, keeping my calendar free
of social engagements for weeks. Recently, I was leaving my
apartment, scurried into the elevator and quickly pressed (and
pressed) the button for the ground floor. My boyfriend said it
was impatient of me to not wait for the people behind us. "It's
not that I'm in a rush" I whispered. "It's that I don't have the
strength to say hello".
I would do
pretty much anything to avoid a large party. The last one I was at was,
alas, New Year's Eve at my house (long story). I asked people to leave two
hours into the New Year and barely had enough strength to make it up the stairs
to my bed. (I was vaguely worried I'd hurt their feelings, but
a couple of days later they told me they were really impressed with how
well I had done. See? Humans. Delightful.)
I have been
known to leave a bar 6 minutes (not that I was counting) after I walk in if I
determine it's too populated. I don't like having more than a handful of people
over to my house at one time. It makes me feel I'd have nowhere to
go if I needed a place to hide. I have a distaste for small talk that borders
on aversion.
At work, I'm surrounded
by people. They have gotten used to me saying things like "go away"
as I see them approach my door. It's just that being interrupted is pure
torture. When I get home at the end of a normal day I need space so
badly I often sit in corner with no light, no book and no devices.
Many of the
activities I enjoy the most are solitary by nature. Swimming. Reading. Writing.
Yoga. When social plans are cancelled what I feel, even when I really want to
see the person in question, is relief. If a beloved friend calls from abroad
announcing a visit and asks if she can stay at my apartment, I offer to pay for
her hotel room. My friends know I'd do anything for them, anything, as long as
they don't inadvertently threaten the room I need to retreat.
After being squarely
extroverted and squarely introverted and pretty much every grade in between, I
now believe that we all have a possibility to be intermittently one
or the other. To be one thing all the time - many of us are just not that
clear cut. It can depend on the year, the
weather, our mood, our caffeine intake, our glucose levels, our saturation
point, the level of heartache we happen to find ourselves in and who knows what
else.
Why does this
matter? I often feel I need to recharge but have no inkling how to go
about it. A book? A nap? Dinner? Learning where my ever-moving boundaries are
is so much harder than I thought; but when I get things right I become a better
person.
We all want
to be better. We want to be spared the merciless spectacle that is to
witness ourselves being resentful, snippy, petty. We don't want anyone to see
what we look like when we are feeling overextended (I mean, it makes my hair
look really frizzy).
It's easy
to jump to the conclusion that PR people are extroverts, but many of
us like to write and ponder and research and do things that do not involve
being in the midst of others (sometimes). Us introverts network well, thank
you. Just one on one, rather than "working a room". We are smashingly
inventive during a brainstorm, just not one that is taking place in the
presence of others. And my observations on a document will be so much better if
you give me the document. No, I don't want you to "walk me through
it". And, tell me. Why on Earth should we all have
drinks after work if we've just spent the entire week together?
Recognizing
our textured, beautiful complexity and getting to understand, respect and
accept (ah, accept!) our ever changing, ever evolving, mercurial selves -
resisting the temptation to throw anyone into a category, even
after reviewing Meyers Briggs results - means I unlock the mystery of
how not to put myself in a situation that will compromise me.
It means that
even if it makes me feel selfish and like a terrible friend, maybe I shouldn't
be throwing New Year's Eve parties at my place. It means, hopefully, that
I will more frequently be able to smile to my neighbor in the elevator.
And just as importantly, it means too that if on that plane trip my travel companion
says he'd rather not talk, I nod knowingly and let him be.
This post was originally published in The Holmes Report.
http://in2.holmesreport.com/2014/01/lets-hang-out-go-away/
