The “single story” of introversion is one of deficiency, suggesting that we should all strive to be extroverts. But there’s more to the story than that.
I am finally beginning to walk comfortably in my introverted skin — and it feels amazing. This happy stroll is a long way from where I was a few years ago.
After many years of overwrought self-analysis and a drawn out misunderstanding of my own needs, I now wear my self-awarded badge of introversion with honor.
As far back as I can remember, I’ve always felt different. As a kid, I was really quiet and enjoyed spending lots of time by myself.
I’m tired of people telling me that being quiet is a bad thing. I think this is a subject we introverts can commiserate on, because it happens so much.
Introverts, have you ever done or said something and the people around you looked at you like you were an alien from Mars?
Although I was a quiet introvert when I was young, I was constantly trying to “come out of my shell” and do cool things like sports and partying.
He sat there while I reread the same paragraph and wondered who was being more rude: me, for not putting down my book or him, for thinking I would do so.
I’ve always struggled to fit in. I daresay most introverts have experienced the feeling of being an “outsider” more than once.
As an INFJ, I have always thought of myself as different somehow. Like I don’t fit the mold of a “normal” person. I was too quiet.