Morjes!

Welcome to my blog. I write about fitting in, sticking out, and missing the motherland as a serial foreigner.

I AM AN INTROVERT.

All the warning signs were there: my aversion to phone calls, my love for solitary reading, my disinclination toward meaningless chit-chat (and by extension, the entire institution of Visiting Teaching).

And yet I have always been hesitant to self-identify as an introvert. After all, I really don't mind being around other people, especially people who I am friends with. I am not afraid of speaking in public, even in front of large groups. I do consider myself to be socially awkward in general, but I am not incapable of making friends or enjoying myself at a party. Surely the label "introvert" was best applied to people other than me, people who are completely dysfunctional in polite company. Maybe I was just shy. Except shy didn't seem to fit me, either.

So what am I? Antisocial? Timid? Awkward? Taciturn? A loner? Nothing described me adequately.

And then I read this article: "Caring For Your Introvert," by Jonathan Rauch, from The Atlantic (thanks for the heads-up, Bryce). My life will never be the same. Now I know: I AM AN INTROVERT.

Everything makes sense now. As an introvert, I am

not necessarily shy. Shy people are anxious or frightened or self-excoriating in social settings; introverts generally are not. Introverts are also not misanthropic, though some of us do go along with Sartre as far as to say "Hell is other people at breakfast." Rather, introverts are people who find other people tiring.

Extroverts are energized by people, and wilt or fade when alone. They often seem bored by themselves, in both senses of the expression. Leave an extrovert alone for two minutes and he will reach for his cell phone. In contrast, after an hour or two of being socially "on," we introverts need to turn off and recharge. My own formula is roughly two hours alone for every hour of socializing. This isn't antisocial. It isn't a sign of depression. It does not call for medication. For introverts, to be alone with our thoughts is as restorative as sleeping, as nourishing as eating. Our motto: "I'm okay, you're okay—in small doses."

Now, before I start getting angry comments from (people who thought they were my?) friends, let me explain. Just because I'm an introvert doesn't mean I am incapable of enjoying good company. But it does explain a few things, doesn't it? Now you all know why I was incapable of scheduling simple play dates, or returning your calls, or inviting you over for dinner or games. The introvert part of me could only ever see all the awkwardness involved or mistakes I would make or social effort I would have to expend. Now I understand that an extrovert, on the other hand, would see only the pleasure of other people's company while trusting that all the other details would fall into place. It all makes so much sense now!

I specifically remember attending a party a few months ago for a good friend's one-year-old daughter. The setting was gorgeous. The food was varied and delicious. There were cute decorations and lots of fun activities. The party was so good and such a success that as an introvert, I was exhausted just by attending. I enjoyed myself thoroughly, but I was worn out from all the quality socializing. And all I had to do was show up! I remember seeing the host and hostess - you know, the people who actually put on the party, cooked the food, decorated the venue, etc. - smiling and mingling and having a good time along with their guests, seeming to do so effortlessly. If it had been my responsibility to throw a party like that, I would have long since locked myself in the bathroom to cry.

I confess I feel liberated by at last discovering - or perhaps just finally being willing to admit - that I am an introvert.

What say you? Are you an introvert or an extrovert? I wonder if I'll be surprised about anyone I know. I think I kept my introversion under wraps pretty well. I'm guessing that most people who knew me probably just thought I was a very unskilled extrovert. I think there are probably introverts out there who have become very good at mimicking extrovert behavior, but I am not one of them.

500 Days of Summer

Flashback Friday: Damascus baby