Society has this unfortunate mistaken view that shyness and introversion are more or less the same. This assumption is so ingrained that for most of my life I thought I was an extrovert. See, shyness was never something I had. Especially while growing up. People who’ve known me since I was a kid can attest to this.
In school, I was always first to raise my hand if I knew the answer. I led my classmates into participating in my own dance routines all throughout grade school. In sophomore year, I got into a fight with a classmate coz I was always answering and always had something to say in class (Hermione-like to some extent). In junior year, I spoke in behalf of our class during a huge class meeting before a teacher we disliked. Months after, I was asked to do the welcome speech for our prom.
I was and am not shy so I thought myself as an extrovert. How incredibly wrong I was…
What I was didn’t dawn on me until I was working alongside a colleague of mine named Joey who, in my own opinion, is the embodiment of an extrovert. In my heart of hearts, I believe that if you look up ‘extrovert’, Joey should be the example in every dictionary and search result.
From a glance, we were alike in a lot of ways – artistic, enjoyed being in the spotlight, expressive, loud, we both shared the same love for coffee and music – but this friend was always a league above everyone else when it came to energy levels. We worked closely and nearly always had the same roles in the office but somehow I could never keep up. This inability to keep up confused me – I thought I was an extrovert, what was up?
A lot of internalization, self-assessment and research went into wanting to justify this confusion that later led to me realizing what I am. Turns out, I’ve shown symptoms of introversion as early as childhood. Always preferring to be on my own and living in my own head and creating things safely in my corner. I mean, maybe the overprotective approach my family had on me as a kid aided by my innate laziness and aversion towards anything strenuous may have contributed to my introversion. There may very well be a great psychological explanation in relation to that theory but regardless of, here we are. I am an introvert!
I’ve always chosen to be alone and thoroughly enjoyed being alone. This didn’t always sit well with other people within close proximity.
In my first year in college, I was alienated over the fact that I didn’t want sit in the same overcrowded table as with nearly 30 of my course mates. This might seem as an exaggeration, but allow me to site an example. They all wanted to sit and have lunch together at the cafeteria – they and moved tables and chairs to get everyone seated together the way they wanted which was all nice and lovely but it all felt too congested and suffocating so I sat at another table with three of my friends where it wasn’t as loud and we could actually talk about something that meant something without talking over everyone else. After that incident, traces of disentanglement started to appear and whatever little strands of friendships were built in the first few weeks quickly frayed. They couldn’t understand that as much as I was one of them (coz neither parties had any choice), I wasn’t like them. We were young and naïve with heightened emotions and thought we knew everything, as everyone tends to do at that age. They thought me weird. Maybe be I was. Maybe I am. And maybe I love my weirdness. And maybe they just didn’t get that. They didn’t need to.
The enormous crowd I had to deal with in that university, topped with the realization a that the course I’d taken on did not make any sense to me a few classes into the second semester, brought me back to my old university.
This has been one of the best decisions I’ve ever made in my life. I switched courses and took up music which was a department of around 30 people (if my memory serves me right which I think it won’t). Don’t get me wrong, we were also a loud bunch that was always together. A group of artistic, musical kids huddled up together? There’s no way it won’t be a party all day every day. It was much like those musicals you’d see in the movies where someone just bursts into song and everyone else joins in chorus or takes out their instruments and starts playing along. We were a bunch of show offs. The difference was (aside from this course made sense to me) that it was a collaborative, synchronized, musical loudness. Always. There was always timing and rhythm and melody and harmony. Even in the moments when the music wasn’t really involved. Another difference? As much as all of that was happening, we were also listening intently to each other.
There, I met my people. There, everyone was weird and it didn’t matter what kind of weird you were, you were celebrated. Like I said, one of the best decisions ever.
Then came “adulthood” (in quotation marks because let’s be honest, are we really “adults” now? I mean, really? Can you honestly say you’re “there” now?… C’mon). In workspaces, I’ve always lived for the moments when I could take a break and step outside even for a few minutes. Even moments alone in the bathroom stalls were and are just total gems. I often take lunch breaks by myself and that activity has always baffled my coworkers. I always got asked if I was going through some emotional stuff and I need to emote and sulk. Um, no. I just thoroughly enjoy having my meal, savoring my coffee while listening to music and writing down things after I eat, thanks.
After my discovery of my own introversion, I’ve just reveled in it. I found comfort in the fact that I now know why I respond to certain things differently. The more I look into introversion, the more I make sense to me. Why I always got angry when my class in second grade was so noisy (in defense of my anger, we really were. Our class had to move to another building far from the principal’s office coz we were that loud). Why I always sat in front of class as much as I could coz not only were those seats almost always close to the door (in case of emergency, leave all other humans behind) but also to avoid any distractions and any chitchat that will end up filtering the information coming from the teacher (this practice, of course, is only reserved for classes that’s actually piqued my interest). Why I always put on my headphones when I could sense the noise picking up volume. Why I always found a sense of order and peace with music. These are things I’ve always done but now have more meaning over how significant they are to my psyche.
Introversion needs clearer, more positive representation in society. Introversion can be – like everyone else, really – friendly, collaborative and fun. Humanity, in general, needs to get over being so scared about things that are different and start embracing uniqueness.
So, here’s to the next generation of introverts – may they never experience being left out because they’re different or can’t mingle with everyone else like everyone else does. Introvert and proud!