I am an introvert. That doesn’t mean I’m shy. I’m not afraid of people. What it means is being around people for long periods of time depletes me. I need quiet time, alone time, to recharge my energy.
Introverts are most comfortable with the inner life of the mind, drawing their energy from quiet and solitude, whereas extroverts are vitalized by people, noise, and action. Brain scans have shown that introverts even process information differently than extroverts.
This is an ongoing conversation between my husband and me. He’s an ambivert–he’s comfortable in social situations and enjoys people, but also requires solitude. He tells me I could be less introverted if I wanted. He’s wrong.
Example:
On a recent Saturday, I had my local RWA chapter meeting. I love my chapter. I love the meetings. But they do take a lot of me because I’m surrounded by people. After the meeting, I usually go home and watch a movie with my husband. I have “down” time in which to recuperate from being “on”.
This particular weekend, we were invited to a Saturday evening surprise birthday party for one of my husband’s former co-workers. And I went, determined to have a good time, even though I would know maybe three or people there–people I see once or twice a year for a handful of years at work-related events. They’re nice people, but they’re not my people. Fortunately, there was a basketball game on in one of the rooms. I curled up in the corner and watched a team for which I have some fondness play while my husband socialized. But the game ended and it was birthday cake time, so I had to leave my sanctuary and mingle. And I did, as best I could. The art of small talk eludes me. I used to try, but it’s not my thing. I ran into a former co-worker of mine, and I listened to him recount his life in the twenty or more years since I’d last seen him.
I had a nice time. It was a lovely party.
But I paid for it the next day. I could barely open my eyes and had no energy whatsoever. I felt hung over. Maybe it was bad wine–one of the wines left the same taste in my mouth that blowing up a new pool toy does: Chateau New Vinyl–but I doubt it. This exhaustion happens to me every time I don’t get enough “down” time. Now I know why. I’m an introvert.
If you’d like to learn more, Quiet: the Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking by Susan Cain delves into the research; The Introvert’s Way: Living a Quiet Life in a Noisy World by Sophia Dembling offers practical advice.