Last weekend I went out with some colleagues – which honestly should have already been a red flag, but I digress . I generally shy away from such events, but it was my chance to meet a person I was eager to get to know (we had a blast) so I obliged.
In conversation, it came up that I was a bit anxious beforehand as I am an introvert, and there it was, the comment from somebody who most definitely is neither my therapist nor my best friend (neither of whom would ever even try to say this):
“You are not an introvert”.
I always find such comments hilarious as I’ve done so many personality tests, which put me firmly in the INTJ personality group, to be able to write a manual on them. A recent article in The Atlantic spoke to the hearts of many introverts in my circle, myself included, as deeply true and resonating with our lived experience. So, I mean, it’s not like there are no opportunities for extroverts to try to understand us.
Anyways, besides the clear boundary breaking micro-aggression posed but such a statement, it got me thinking. In the US extroversion is the religion of choice, and introverts are thought of as deviants from the true belief, at best reclusive people with psychopathic tendencies.
This is obviously not the reality for the majority of introverts.
So, what is introversion?
According to the Myers-Briggs Foundation, introversion involves a tendency to derive energy from time spent alone, where time spent around other people may be experienced as emotionally or psychologically draining. To put it simply, introverts are drained by social contact, whereas extroverts gain energy from it. I completely second these definitions: it’s not like I dislike people (though sometimes I really do haha), but it does suck all the energy I have spent days carefully collecting out of me. Every time I have a social occasion I then have to spend days in total silence and possibly alone to recharge. Don’t get me wrong, I try to surround myself, for the most part, with people whose company I truly enjoy, so feeling drained feels like a price I have to pay to be around them.
Unfortunately, because I am generally nice and I appear socially competent (thanks, masking!) some folks mistake me for an extrovert and belittle my experience as an introvert.
This is even more hilarious – we laugh not to cry – since lately researchers have come to the conclusion that there are actually 4 types, or rather tendencies, among introverts:
- social introverts prefer to gather in small group or be alone
- anxious introverts seek solitude due to anxiety which doesn’t fade when alone
- thinking introverts have no aversion for social settings but they tend to be quiet and introspective
- restrained introverts think deeply before action and/or speaking
Most people’s mental picture of introversion is therefore very limiting, painting us as misanthropic assholes who either hate people or are very bad at dealing with people, when in fact many introverts are also gregarious. I know I am: I come from not one but two very gregarious cultures so I am generally nice to people. I will not say no to having lunch with a colleague – most days, some days it’s too much – even though it drains me, because I want to get to know the humans I work with and it gives me the opportunity to experience different cognitive styles.
What, I guess, really incensed me, thought, and the reason why I am writing this, is the presumption people have that it is ok to correct people when they express themselves, especially when said expression is one of vulnerability and truth. In addition, its seems to me quite disingenuous to correct folks when they declaring themselves: don’t you think people generally have a good enough grasp of their inner workings to know whether they are introverted or no? It’s so rude to assume otherwise. I’m sure this is a common an occurrence, since I’ve experienced virtually everywhere I’ve been, and in my opinion goes in the now large bucket of assholery folks in general and marginalized ones in particular have to deal with on a daily basis.
It goes without saying – or maybe it doesn’t, since I’m typing this – that a listening stance is often better than a speaking one, especially when one is at the receiving end of other painful recollections of lived experiences.
As we say in Italian, don’t miss an opportunity to remain silent.
Making&Candor 