Dear Introverts,
I see that you’re hurting. And I think I know why. Like so many of us quiet, sensitive souls, you feel broken. You see yourself as that beat-up old stuffed teddy bear with a missing eye, and limp limbs. You aren’t puffed up and outgoing like the other bears. Your personality seems dull in comparison to theirs.

Somewhere along the line, someone told you that they had the magical cure for your brokenness. They told you that the antidote to your pain was to put on a new personality – one that was shinier, more talkative, and more enthusiastic than your true self. They told you to do more and feel less. While you’re at it, stop thinking so much for goodness sake!

You took their medicine, and I guess you know what happened next.

It seemed to work at first, but it had strange side-effects. The harder you tried to be up and on all the time, the more exhausted and empty you felt. When overwhelm set in, you began shutting down, and pushing people away. This made you feel even worse.

“Why can’t I just relax and have fun like everyone else?” you asked yourself, as you checked your watch for the tenth time. What you were really wondering was …

“Why can’t I just be an extrovert? Life would be better – I would be better – if I could just fix my personality.”

Needless to say, the extrovert’s quick-fix for introversion never works. And it’s not because it makes you exhausted and irritable. Or because it eats away at your soul. Or because it forces you to live life on someone else’s terms. These are all consequences, but they are not the true reason why trying to fix your introversion doesn’t work.

The real reason is that you can’t fix what isn’t broken. You are an introvert. You like people, but sometimes you like your alone time more. You think deeply, and choose your words carefully. You enjoy different pastimes than the extrovert down the street.

None of the above makes you a bad person. In fact, there are billions of other people who share your preferences.

So, let’s try a different approach, shall we?

Let’s try on a little self-acceptance for size. Instead of trying to fix or cure, let’s celebrate our strengths. For the longest time, I saw my quietness as a fatal flaw, a sign that I am not friendly, or feminine enough. Now, I see it as just another piece of the intricate mosaic that is my personality.

Alongside my quietness, there is also intuition, wisdom, and an ability to read between the lines. Sure, I speak slowly and pause often, but I am singing on the inside. Those who matter can hear my silent song.

They’ll hear yours, too.
Let me get this straight. I adore you. I love that you were standing in that corner at that party. I love that you’d rather talk about books like me. I love that you aren’t trying to be the center of attention and wouldn’t want to be anyway. I also love that if I manage to approach you in just the right way, I can actually make you a little more comfortable in a place where you aren’t. Because even as an extrovert, it makes me MORE comfortable to do something like that than to be here with more than just a few people.

But I think we need to address a few things, introvert. See some of us non introverts understand you. At the very least, I’m really trying to and I believe that’s what you want me to do. But sometimes that’s hard when you automatically assume I don’t. Just as you don’t want me to make assumptions that you don’t care what everyone is talking about because you don’t feel like asserting yourself to give input or that you’re boring because you don’t go out all the time. Not all of us extroverts are socially aggressive gossip robots here to judge you. I know that people exhaust you. Sometimes they really exhaust me too. You don’t have a monopoly on social anxiety.

That’s the thing. Sometimes I word vomit the wrong conversation out my own awkwardness. I don’t actually want to talk about who did what at the VMAs, I just want to talk to you. Because I think you’re lovely over there in the corner and I’d like to stand with you. But with my personality, I have trouble doing that without saying at least something beyond hello first. And I’m not smooth, so it’s probably going to be something not quite on par for you. Because walking up to someone and immediately asking them how many times they’ve read “Catcher in the Rye” is pretentious. That will come up later, I promise, if you don’t shun me before we can get there. I am bad at first impressions.

But if you entertain me, for just a moment, I will feel comfortable and then we can be together in silence and observe. I like just observing too, you know. And silence doesn’t make me uncomfortable. We can share that space if you let me.

I’m willing to take the time with you, really. Let’s get out of here. Maybe we can get coffee in a few days when you’re ready even though I’d be game for tomorrow. We can go slow because I don’t think you were expecting this and I know that could throw you off. But let’s try this again and I’ll open up because I’ve probably already decided I want to let you in. I don’t expect you to do so at the same rate as me by any means because I know this feels quick for you. Obviously we will hit a roadblock if you never return the favor but I am telling you something because I trust you and I like you. This is not me pressuring you to share. And do not think that because I trust fast, that I will trust anyone and everyone. Like you, if I like you, I really like you and that group of people is select.

Should we really continue this, I would give up regularly forcing myself into very crowded social situations in a heartbeat.

What about you, dearest?

Have you ever felt broken as an introvert? Did you try the extrovert’s quick-fix? And what did you learn in the process?. I would continue this post on Introverts only after sufficient comments.

I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments below.. Thank you Neehzz for giving me such a remarkable idea to write on, looking forward for your feedback on it.

With lots of love and respect
Your Introvert Writer
Or whatever you feel like;))