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So some of the stuff I'm working on lately has lead me to come into contact with some people I knew from my younger years. One of them is a gentleman I've known since first grade. He and his friends chased me with a huge stick because I was a girl. The other person is a very nice woman who I have known since seventh grade. (Well, there was a break in really knowing any of these people from 1993 or 1994 through present day.)
There has been discussions of class reunions and such things. I think perhaps they misunderstand some of my responses to socialization. And this is why, though I have mentioned it in passing, they have not caught on to the fact that I am an introvert.
I've brought this article out before, but I thought I should bring it up again.
If you are an extrovert I know that we introverts can be hard to understand, but please try. It will make everyone much happier.
***
Part of being an introvert means that we are internally focused. I am, and have always been, this way. As I reminisce on my formative years this is becoming more and more obvious. These people from my high school are talking about "remember the time we all" and I'm thinking, "Wow, I remember when I read my first Sherlock Holmes book," or how I used to sit in my room for hours reading and writing and pondering on the nature of the universe, as far as a teenager growing up in rural Idaho can.
These people have been incredibly kind and I suspect we are actually, at least somewhat, enjoying one another's online company, but I'm still an introvert, and they're still missing the Atlantic article.
So there it is, for all of you, introverts and extroverts alike.
***
I'm even more internally focused when I'm working on a story. Perhaps my relationships and I are more temperamentally suited to short stories -- more breaks between the intensity of my internal focusing, you know. But I'm working on some much longer works, and so my mind has been working on them fairly regularly. This means I've been a bit more of an introvert than usual. I can make my kids sandwiches, read them books, listen to them and love them, I can talk to my husband about his day at work, and truly care, but a significant portion of me (and I mean pretty much all of me) is with my characters, muddling through on how to progress. This is hard for my husband to understand. He wants me to be happy, he wants to fix it, if he can. (We're going through this right now.) But I am happy, as long as you understand I'm an introvert and need to be this way, and to work on what all I have jumbling along in my head. So really, there's nothing to fix.
Unless chocolate is involved.
There has been discussions of class reunions and such things. I think perhaps they misunderstand some of my responses to socialization. And this is why, though I have mentioned it in passing, they have not caught on to the fact that I am an introvert.
I've brought this article out before, but I thought I should bring it up again.
If you are an extrovert I know that we introverts can be hard to understand, but please try. It will make everyone much happier.
Part of being an introvert means that we are internally focused. I am, and have always been, this way. As I reminisce on my formative years this is becoming more and more obvious. These people from my high school are talking about "remember the time we all" and I'm thinking, "Wow, I remember when I read my first Sherlock Holmes book," or how I used to sit in my room for hours reading and writing and pondering on the nature of the universe, as far as a teenager growing up in rural Idaho can.
These people have been incredibly kind and I suspect we are actually, at least somewhat, enjoying one another's online company, but I'm still an introvert, and they're still missing the Atlantic article.
So there it is, for all of you, introverts and extroverts alike.
I'm even more internally focused when I'm working on a story. Perhaps my relationships and I are more temperamentally suited to short stories -- more breaks between the intensity of my internal focusing, you know. But I'm working on some much longer works, and so my mind has been working on them fairly regularly. This means I've been a bit more of an introvert than usual. I can make my kids sandwiches, read them books, listen to them and love them, I can talk to my husband about his day at work, and truly care, but a significant portion of me (and I mean pretty much all of me) is with my characters, muddling through on how to progress. This is hard for my husband to understand. He wants me to be happy, he wants to fix it, if he can. (We're going through this right now.) But I am happy, as long as you understand I'm an introvert and need to be this way, and to work on what all I have jumbling along in my head. So really, there's nothing to fix.
Unless chocolate is involved.
