Understanding introverts: A peek behind the curtain

Come on in. That’s far enough.

As a child, when I got home from school, sometimes my mother would ask me how my day was. She was interested. I don’t begrudge her that. However, in my young, nascent mind, I came to realize that I really dreaded being asked that question.

To me, it was homework. I lived my day. I went to school and did what was asked of me. I didn’t want to relive it again at home. I thought I was home free; able to relax. Nope, I had to do a report on what just happened. Even though nothing much happened. Which seemed pointless. I would get stressed about having to come up with some measure of words that seemed worthy of this proscribed conversation.

I didn’t like that.

The reason why, is because I’m an introvert. There, I said it. And no, it doesn’t feel good to air out my private, personal thoughts. Because I’m an introvert. I get nothing out of expending extra effort so you or anyone else can get a glimpse behind the curtain.

If I’m explaining something of any level of a personal nature, it’s because you asked, most likely. That means, I am indulging you. It is me trying (emphasis on trying) to be sociable. It’s not that I don’t want to be known. It’s that I don’t enjoy expending the effort to help you get there.

Other than that, I’m just a super, easy, breezy joy to be around.

More trapped than free

To live as an introvert in a world dominated by non-introverts is to recognize that most everything is a trap. There is an ongoing effort to suck the energy out of you. That is key to understanding introverts: while extroverts and ambiverts gain energy from human interactions, introverts expend energy during these interactions. For us, that energy is rarely regained in sufficiently equal amounts.

It’s not that we hate people or are otherwise anti-social. We just need less human socialization than the norm. But we still need it just the same. We also tire of it far more quickly than you seem to think. We love to party just as much as the next guy. If by party, you mean crack open a laptop/book/magazine in a comfy chair. Because that’s what we mean by “party.” Rub elbows and chat about God-knows-what with God-knows-whom for an undetermined amount of time? That’s work.

Since it’s work, we’ll do it, but we expect to be rewarded for it. And if we’re not adequately rewarded for it, it goes in the negative column. In ink.

This sucks

"The most exhausting thing in life is being insincere." — Anne Morrow Lindbergh

Another thing that sucks the life out of introverts is not just the amount of energy expended to keep up social connections, but the type of energy required. We hate being insincere. Chatting often requires insincerity. So often banal and obviously pointless, meandering through an exchange of words trying to find something of interest or significance worthy of the words coming and going … reeks of insincerity. We long to get to the point in the conversation that actually doesn’t suck. Introverts know there is no such guarantee of success. We fear wasting our time and having to fake it while doing so. Chatting = likely loss.

On the flip side, if we’re talking with you and actually enjoying it, we are delighted to the core at such a pleasant surprise. It may even show on our faces. Which we hate, of course.

We all want more energy. We need energy. No offense, but we introverts are just not looking to get it from you. We just know better, that’s all. The inner child in each of us wants every effort to lead to something interesting. Prosaic = pass. Poetic? We’re intrigued by the possibility. We know we’re more likely to get a poetic experience from that which we’ve chosen ourselves, rather than from a seemingly random human interaction.

Introverts are big on loyalty, however. If you’ve proven to be interesting and otherwise valuable, you’ve got a friend through thick and thin. We know how rare the good ones are.

Introverts also have to spend time, effort and sometimes money, to level the playing field. We have to try to be “normal,” “be nice,” “go out and play,” and “get your ass out on the street and earn before I cut you.” I’ve never met one, but I assume no prostitutes are introverts. At least not successful ones.

Straight to the top

As you can imagine, being an introvert is a huge advantage in life. See? I hated being insincere there. One of the problems that plague introverts is the tendency to over-think … everything. We may be no less ambitious and eager to succeed as the rest of the world, but we have an innate ability to see the downsides of all that effort. That doesn’t spring you out of bed in the morning, nor propel you up on stage. When you can see just exactly how the odds are stacked against you and how every step of effort is going to suck life out of you, one does not exactly fire off the starting line with ease and grace.

Like everyone, we loved the vulnerable and earnest Charlie Brown. Unlike most people, we introverts learned too late that he wasn’t a hero to be admired. Society does not reward introverts. In fact, a bias exists against introversion. Introverts annoy non-introverts. Non-introverts think less of introverts. We know it. If I were to be asked in a job interview whether or not I’m an introvert, you know what I would do? I would deny it.

I may be an introvert, but I’m not stupid. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m exhausted.

© Julian Rogers