Introvert is Not Synonymous With Creepy
Weekends: a time for social interactions, parties, adventures, and pure fun, especially if you���re in your twenties. My typical weekend: the couch, dinner, Netflix, and sitting with Henry and the cats.
As a teacher, I have to be somewhat outgoing, at least in front of the classroom. It���s certainly a social job. For forty-two minutes, I have to present information, get students engaged, and keep them mildly entertained so that they can perhaps agree to absorb Shakespeare and comma rules. I love it. I love interacting with the students, and I know that every day, we will share at least a few laughs.
Outside of the classroom, though, I���m a very different person. Gone is the outgoing, loudmouthed, witty girl. She is replaced by a somewhat mousey, quiet, I-enjoy-reading-with-my-cats persona. In social gatherings, I joke that I���m the creepy girl awkwardly meandering by the cheese table, snacking on appetizers instead of making conversation. In fact, I sometimes avoid social situations like the plague because I just hate having to meet new people and be social.
Truth be told, I���ve always had a touch of introvert in me. In school, I was the student who would ask if I could work on the project alone rather than have to deal with the complex interactions in a group setting. I had friends but not dozens. I was content with a select group of close friends. Partying was not in my vocabulary, ever. I was the girl in college who spent time in the library instead of at a wild get together (not that the Catholic college I attended really had any parties to speak of).
Even now, I prefer a night on my sofa to a night out. My favorite moments in the week are the moments sitting on the deck in solitude with a book or writing. For many, being alone is synonymous with sadness. For me, alone is synonymous with peace.
Don���t get me wrong . . .introvert shouldn���t be automatically associated with super creepy or anti-social. I enjoy talking to people. I don���t shake at the prospect of making eye contact with someone. I���m not that creepy of a cat lady . . .yet.
I recently watched a TED talk that explored the stigma that goes along with being an introvert. Our society values extroverts so much that we teach our children that they have to be one to succeed. We push group work and cooperation. Our current curriculums actually include standards for cooperation, discussion with others, and collaboration.
Are we making a mistake, though? Are we teaching our children that introversion is bad?
As the TED talk notes, some of the best, most brilliant people have been introverts, and some of the greatest inventions have come from them.
Being an introvert doesn���t mean you have to swear off the entire human race. It just means that you���re okay, even prefer, working, thinking, and being alone from time to time.
As a writer, I enjoy my introverted time. However, as I traverse into the world of being a published author, I���ve realized that the introverted persona doesn���t translate well to author-world. Being an author equates to being somewhat of a public figure, meaning you have to enter into the land of the extrovert, at least from time to time. You have to be willing to meet new people, to put your work out there, and to talk about your writing.
In the past few months, I���ve learned that introversion and extroversion can be married; they aren���t mutually exclusive. In fact, my newly found writing career has perhaps brought the best of both worlds together. I am free to pursue my introverted passion of writing while also enhancing the extrovert within through marketing.
Perhaps then, the mistake our society is making isn���t that it is teaching that extroversion is better���perhaps the true tragedy is that we are teaching children they must be one or the other. Perhaps we should be teaching our children that the most successful people have a piece of both.
Where do you stand on the introversion/extroversion debate?
