Ask if you want, but you may not receive
I'm slowly starting to embrace this new introverted side of me. This is a fairly recent development, so part of me couldn't help wondering if it's a phase, or something permanent. Being that outgoing social butterfly who goes up to strangers introducing herself is no longer comfortable. Speaking in front of people doesn't come as easily as it used to...well, depending on the subject. There are some subjects I now denote too personal for discussion with people I've just met. When it comes to my books, though, I'm like a new mom showing off all 50+ pictures on my iphone of my baby in the exact same pose, thoroughly convinced she is the most adorably original creature anyone has ever seen.
There are some situations I'll have to get used to, like the dreaded "What do you want to do with your major?" question that everyone always asks at parties. It's my own fault, I know, for choosing something that makes people feel awkward. Or maybe it's God's fault for, as seminarians like to say, "Putting this calling on my heart." Explaining that I want to work with rape victims almost always shuts down conversation. I understand why, but there's not much I can do about it. Only on rare occasions have I been asked "And what made you want to do that kind of work?" I'll say "Personal experiences," and leave it at that. You don't get more of an explanation if you're not a close friend of mine. In that circumstance, it doesn't matter whether one is an introvert or not. There's healthy curiosity, and then there's a complete lacking of tact.
But then there's this other thing...this "OOOOH you grew up Jewish?! Tell me your whole life story RIGHT NOW!" In not quite those exact words, this has happened to me dozens of times, not including the time I've spent in seminary. And when this happens, my former self and new self collide. The old self wouldn't have so much of a problem with this. I confess, I was "that girl" who loved being the center of attention, and dropping the "I was raised Jewish" bomb in a Christian setting was always the best way to make that happen.
Now, it's different. Aside from trying to be more humble, I'm realizing -- shocker -- that I don't owe everyone who asks a detailed explanation, about anything. For one thing, it's exhausting to recount the majority of my life in under five minutes or so. For another, being barraged with questions (or so it feels) is even more exhausting. My life is a literal open book -- I don't regret writing one that answers all those questions -- and that's exactly why I wrote it. To let myself off the hook for having to explain everything...just read about it instead! (Shameless plug, I know)
Moreover, there's a certain "novelty status" that comes with being different. I'm starting to get a little sick of it, honestly. As a new introvert, being the target of personal questions, especially from strangers, freaks me out. If I want to put myself out there, I'll write a book or volunteer in some other way. I like the freedom of choice. I no longer revel in turning the tide of a social gathering because my background is suddenly the most interesting subject. But then, introverted or not, wouldn't that make anyone feel uncomfortable?
The moral of this story is this: feel free to ask whatever you want. But don't be offended if I decline to answer.
There are some situations I'll have to get used to, like the dreaded "What do you want to do with your major?" question that everyone always asks at parties. It's my own fault, I know, for choosing something that makes people feel awkward. Or maybe it's God's fault for, as seminarians like to say, "Putting this calling on my heart." Explaining that I want to work with rape victims almost always shuts down conversation. I understand why, but there's not much I can do about it. Only on rare occasions have I been asked "And what made you want to do that kind of work?" I'll say "Personal experiences," and leave it at that. You don't get more of an explanation if you're not a close friend of mine. In that circumstance, it doesn't matter whether one is an introvert or not. There's healthy curiosity, and then there's a complete lacking of tact.
But then there's this other thing...this "OOOOH you grew up Jewish?! Tell me your whole life story RIGHT NOW!" In not quite those exact words, this has happened to me dozens of times, not including the time I've spent in seminary. And when this happens, my former self and new self collide. The old self wouldn't have so much of a problem with this. I confess, I was "that girl" who loved being the center of attention, and dropping the "I was raised Jewish" bomb in a Christian setting was always the best way to make that happen.
Now, it's different. Aside from trying to be more humble, I'm realizing -- shocker -- that I don't owe everyone who asks a detailed explanation, about anything. For one thing, it's exhausting to recount the majority of my life in under five minutes or so. For another, being barraged with questions (or so it feels) is even more exhausting. My life is a literal open book -- I don't regret writing one that answers all those questions -- and that's exactly why I wrote it. To let myself off the hook for having to explain everything...just read about it instead! (Shameless plug, I know)
Moreover, there's a certain "novelty status" that comes with being different. I'm starting to get a little sick of it, honestly. As a new introvert, being the target of personal questions, especially from strangers, freaks me out. If I want to put myself out there, I'll write a book or volunteer in some other way. I like the freedom of choice. I no longer revel in turning the tide of a social gathering because my background is suddenly the most interesting subject. But then, introverted or not, wouldn't that make anyone feel uncomfortable?
The moral of this story is this: feel free to ask whatever you want. But don't be offended if I decline to answer.
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