On Bowing Out Gracefully

Often I'm invited to hang out with acquaintances, and I find myself declining because I'd prefer not to be social at that moment. Although there are times when I'm more open to it (or when I force myself to be), those times are few and far between. Thus I'm regularly faced with the task of declining, which is something I haven't yet figured out how to do well.

For one thing, describing my reasons seems like an overly personal exercise. It feels like opening up more than I want to. Also, all of the potential explanations seem too lengthy. I want for a simple, concise, and friendly way to get the message across. Saying that "I'm not in the mood to hang out" seems like it would invite too many questions. It might also appear to be too harsh; I'm not a harsh person, despite how I may come across, and I don't want to come across that way.

So how is it done? How do you turn invitations down without:

1. Being an ass, or
2. Being too personal, or
3. Making others more curious, or
4. Lying outright

If it's an impossible task, then maybe I can understand why many introverts come across as cold. Of the four options above, being an ass does seem like the easiest solution.

Unfortunately, I think I tend to veer towards being too personal. It's a compulsion: I hate saying anything that I don't mean, and I certainly don't mean to hurt anyone. It's a wonder I speak at all.

On Behaving This Way

The following is a snippet from an an article that a fellow blogger pointed me to recently.

From http://research.similarminds.com/similarminds-personality-descriptions-are-too-negative:

The introvert 'class' behave the way they do (quiet, shy, private, etc.) because they...

1. don't know who they are
   
   and/or
   
   
2. intentionally want to hide who they are from others (because who they are is unattractive/offensive/etc. to others in perception and/or in reality AND/OR because they perceive some tactical advantage over others by not revealing their 'hand')
   
   and/or
   
   
3. are afraid of / don't trust others,

Sigh. When a person is this wrong about introverts (at least in my opinion), I then begin to wonder whether I should find another label to go by. I can only speak for myself here, but none of the three items above describes me. Instead, I would say this:

1. I know very well who I am, and probably more so than most people. I could likely attribute much of this to the very fact that I'm an introvert, which has given me more time to be introspective and to evaluate who I am.
2. If and when I intentionally hide from others, it's because it feels good. But the truth is that I'm glad to be selective about who I show myself to, and when I do open up to someone I tend to give all that I can of myself.
3. It's not fear that keeps me away from others. It's that I desire something else. I think what people see as being "afraid" is really a projection of their own anxieties.

Sometimes, I wish I didn't know what people thought of my behavior. I'm not likely to behave differently because of it, and being judged so wrongly certainly won't persuade me to hide any less. If anything, I'll end up reinforcing the wrong-headed ideas because of my utter lack of desire to associate with them.

Behaving this way is right for me. But I suppose I'll have to accept that not everyone sees it the same way.

 

Perhaps In A Parallel Universe

Imagine a world where the tendency to be social is viewed with suspicion.

In such a world, kids shun their talkative peers. Those who frequently gather in large groups are looked upon as strange. Children are discouraged from feeling drawn towards crowds and parties. Feeling overly social is discouraged in general. Adults, on the other hand, are encouraged to work alone rather than in teams. The loud and gregarious ones are chided.

In such a world, the entertainment industry is less glamorous, though still highly appreciated. Literature and science are far more advanced, and these things are more glamorous; the lone researchers and novelists are especially admired.

In such a world, being reserved is the norm, and it's a trait that's prized and nurtured. The leaders in society are the ones who are seen the least. They strive to say what they mean, and they tend to do so with few words. They're thoughtful and effective. They don't lead for the attention, but because there's value in it.

In such a world, the tendency to be social is pitied. Many people try to change you if you happen to be that way. If it weren't for the fact that science had advanced so far, being so social might even be considered a disease.

Imagine a world where those who tend to be "too social" are made to feel uncomfortable because of it. Perhaps in that world we can find understanding.

 

Diagnostics, Part 3: How Withdrawal Becomes Frightful

(see also: Part 1, Part 2)

The DSM group, which is currently working on revisions for the fifth version of the manual that describes mental disorders, has removed the proposal for the term "introversion" as one of the criteria for diagnosing schizotypal personality disorder. Unfortunately, they've simply replaced the term with another one, namely detachment. Although this is an improvement, it's not what I would call a solution.

They now refer to introversion as one and the same as detachment, (e.g., they say that "extraversion is the opposite of introversion, a.k.a. detachment)", and then they go on to describe detachment as a facet of Schizotypal Personality Disorder. This essentially means that introversion is a facet of the same disorder. In case you're curious, here's how detachment is characterized:

1. Restricted affectivity: Little reaction to emotionally arousing situations; constricted emotional experience and expression; indifference or coldness.
2. Withdrawal: Preference for being alone to being with others; reticence in social situations; avoidance of social contacts and activity; lack of initiation of social contact.

I'm not sure whether to be worried about these definitions or whether this is just a typical day in the life. My mind reels with questions about this proposal, but probably the detail that confuses me most is the inclusion of "withdrawal" -- especially as it's defined above. Though I understand that it's the combination of all (or most) of the listed characteristics that determines whether someone has a personality impairment, I just don't agree that all of the characteristics belong there. They're not relevant.

As I see it, withdrawal is an integral part of being an introvert. It's something that we need, and it feels good. It helps us to recharge, and to be ourselves. And yet it's said to potentially indicate something wrong in one's personality. So simply by being ourselves, we risk becoming diagnosed with a disease.

My conclusion from all of this is, as usual, that we live in an extrovert's world. Our world is defined by the ones who make the most noise. When people are afraid of something, they define it as a disease.

And, apparently, introverts inspire fear.

 

Diagnostics, Part 2: To View Inhaling With Suspicion

(see also: Part 1, Part 3)

This is old news (circa 2010), but I only came across it recently while trying to determine what the current view of American psychologists is about introversion. I found it astounding that, without most of us ever knowing about it, professionals in the psychology industry were proposing to use the term "introversion" as a criterion for diagnosing personality disorders.

Throughout the history of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (the DSM), there have been many things wrongly classified as disorders. Homosexuality, for example, once appeared as a disorder in the DSM. Now it's introversion that's being misjudged.

This is what the New York Times had to say about the matter last year (2011):

The DSM inevitably reflects cultural attitudes; it used to identify homosexuality as a disease, too. Though the DSM did not set out to pathologize shyness, it risks doing so, and has twice come close to identifying introversion as a disorder, too. (Shyness and introversion are not the same thing. Shy people fear negative judgment; introverts simply prefer quiet, minimally stimulating environments.)

In 2010, the group responsible for revising the DSM made the proposal that I mentioned above. Fortunately, there were other professionals who objected to introversion being used in such a manner. The following are two excellent letters by Hester Solomon of the IAAP, one to his own organization and the other to the DSM group, which voice his objections to this proposal in a beautiful way. Honestly beautiful.

From http://iaap.org/frontpage/archive/proposed-changes-to-dsm-v-introversion.html

Written by Hester Solomon
IAAP’s President Secretariat

11 May 2010

Dear Presidents and Individual Members of the IAAP

I am writing to let you know that the IAAP has made a submission to the DSM V Working Group on Personality Disorders. You may know that DSM IV (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual) is a very influential publication of the American Psychiatric Association used broadly by psychiatrists, psychologists and social workers in formulating diagnoses of mental illness and dysfunction within the community. Its influence is felt beyond the boarders of the USA, and its categorizations of mental illness have an important impact on patient diagnosis and treatment in many parts of the world.

Recently John Beebe brought to our attention that the DSM V Working Group, in its revision of DSM IV, is proposing to include the term ‘introversion’ as one of the criteria used to designate the category of ‘schizoid withdrawal’, making it one of the ‘trait domains’ indicative of personality disorder. With John’s help, we formulated a letter to the Working Group to put forward the rationale for not using the term ‘introversion’ in this way. This was forwarded to the Working Group and now appears on the APA website. The deadline for receiving such communications was 20 April 2010.

The IAAP’s response, together with this explanatory email, is being posted on the IAAP’s website in order to to keep you informed about our actions in this matter. As soon as the results of the Working Group’s deliberations are known, which may be towards the end of May, I will write again to inform you of the outcome.

I would be pleased if the Presidents of Member Groups would circulate this information to the members of their Societies.

With all my good wishes

Hester Solomon
President, IAAP

And then, even more inspiring, here's the submission to the DSM working group:

8 April 2010

Dear Dr. Skodol,

I am writing on behalf of the International Association for Analytical Psychology to urge that the term introversion not be used to identify the trait domain of personality functioning that can become, if carried to an extreme, a pathological syndrome of reclusiveness, withdrawal, and affective constriction. Introversion, a term introduced into psychiatry by C. G. Jung in 1909, has a long and varied history in personality theory, only a small part of which is captured in Theodore Millon’s otherwise extremely useful discrimination of the syndromes of personality disorder. Millon’s book, Disorders of Personality, has led many American psychiatrists and psychologists to accept the erroneous belief that introversion was simply the historical antecedent to the contemporary conception of schizoid personality disorder. Indeed, if one looks on the DSM-V website for a definition of introversion, one finds this proposed personality trait domain defined in exclusively negative terms: "Withdrawal from other people, ranging from intimate relationships to the world at large; restricted affective experience and expression; limited "hedonic capacity" with trait facets of "social withdrawal," "social detachment," "intimacy avoidance," "restricted affectivity," and "anhedonia".

This definition is transparently based on the current DSM-IV diagnostic criteria for Schizoid Personality Disorder, and thus equates introversion with a pattern that has long been regarded as personality pathology. Under the proposed new terminology, the pattern defined as introversion is a trait domain, within a dimensional approach to diagnosis. While this approach does not insist that a personality displaying the trait of introversion is ipso facto pathological, unless the trait dominates the personality to an extreme degree, the clear implication of the definition is that extraversion is the sole basis of positive affectivity and healthy relationships with others. We believe this unjustified conclusion stems from the misuse of "introversion" as a term to represent a trait domain of detachment from social relationship and one’s own affects.

For many of us, the term "introversion" means the normal and psychologically essential process of introspection and reflection through which people define, evaluate, identify, and digest both outer and inner experience. Encouraging mental health professionals evaluating personality to write and think about introversion in negative terms would be analogous to asking internists evaluating patients to view inhaling with suspicion, because it is a compromise or absence of exhaling.

The International Association for Analytical Psychology represents approximately 3000 member analysts in 50 Institutes of Jungian Analysis around the world, and their influence is sufficiently felt through teaching, supervision, publication, and, of course, clinical work, to bring us in contact with many mental health practitioners who are working closely in psychotherapy with patients who happen to be introverted. It is clear to us that patients who need to connect positively with their inner lives will suffer if the very word "introversion," which has been a lifeline to many, becomes stigmatized as it would under the proposed DSM-V wording.

I want to thank you for letting us give input as part of your own hard work to get this right.

Sincerely,

Hester Solomon
President, IAAP

Amazing letter; few of us could have said it better. There's a lot to take in from this correspondence, but -- without question -- this is important stuff. As introverts, it seems that we should be included in such events. It would have eventually affected us in very crucial ways.

We're lucky that there are others watching out for us. Imagine what might happen to us without them!

 

Diagnostics, Part 1: The Dragon Tattoo View

(see also: Part 2, Part 3)

Friends of mine recently recommended a book by Stieg Larsson, and they explained that the writing style was different from anything they'd come across before. Though skeptical, I figured I'd give it a try; after all, anything that can inspire such enthusiasm is worth looking into.

It turned out to be a dark story told in a rapidly fluctuating manner, which I admit was interesting. What struck me most, though, were the references to introversion. Here's one of several:

By then her casebook was filled with such terms as introverted, socially inhibited, lacking in empathy, ego fixated, psychopathic and asocial behavior, difficulty in cooperating, and incapable of assimilating learning.

Excerpt from The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo
by Stieg Larsson

I'm not the first to have noticed this. The passage refers to a psychological profile, and it includes introversion as an indicator for a highly questionable and likely disturbed personality. In other words, it's described in negative terms. This is just a work of fiction, but I'm sure authors can have more influence on what the general public perceives than almost anyone. What the public will think in this case is probably that introversion is something to be suspicious about.

I wondered whether this was a translation error, or whether introversion is viewed more negatively in other parts of the world and in other cultures. And then I wondered how American psychologists currently view the trait.

Personally, I don't think introversion should ever be included in a psychological profile. In my view, it'd be similar to describing someone as perfectly content. So why should it appear alongside terms such as "psychopathic?"

For me, introversion is a positive thing. At worst, it's a neutral thing: it simply is. It's confusing to see the term used in potentially negative ways.

I just don't get it.

 

How To Lose An Introvert

Understand this: when an introvert is lost, it's usually in thought.

I imagine a scene like the following:

You, the introvert, are talking with a group of people, but you gradually recede into your head. The conversation continues while you process unrelated phenomena, facial expressions, body language, and the random bits of conversation that you are able to pick up. Without your noticing, the conversation eventually becomes about you.

"His eyes are glazed over," someone says.

"I think we're losing him," says another.

"Doctor," says yet another, "he's crashing! We need to resuscitate!"

Believe it: this kind of thing happens every day.

For as long as I can remember, I've had a habit of retreating inside myself -- not retreating because of some threat, but rather because it's where I go naturally. There's comfort inside. Thoughts become real there. Problems are solved there. And something there pulls me into myself, like gravity.

But sometimes the cause of my retreat is external. It always took very little prodding to send me back into myself.

Growing up, I noticed that certain situations would send me there more quickly than others. Personal remarks about me, especially, would trigger a retreat. For some reason, evaluating the truth of the remarks was a compulsion; I needed to understand why things were being said about me. Or I needed to understand something else about the situation. Being in large social gatherings would usually send me there, as well. I'd try to join in and follow along, but very soon I'd find myself failing. I would eventually conclude that I was being over-stimulated: there was just too much going on for me to process it all. Talk became noise. Faces became blurred. Or maybe I was simply too slow.

But after all these years, I've noticed a trend. There are certain kinds of statements, and certain kinds of situations, that will cause me to become lost in my own head. Some things incite me to dive into thought, and that's when I get lost. In fact, it's easy to lose an introvert.

Here's how:

• Ask him how he feels, or whether he's happy, or ask some otherwise personal question, especially in a public setting
• Tell him how he feels, or what he is, or who he is
• Embarrass him
• Judge him, or tell him that he's being evaluated
• Have an argument, either with him or within close proximity to him
• Bring a large gathering of people over to him and commence a conversation (or simply have everyone sing to him)

If he's not lost within moments of any of these events, he soon will be. And it will probably take some time for him to recover. If your goal is to witness an introvert becoming lost, these things will usually do the trick.

All joking aside, however, I have developed some defenses over the years; I'm guessing that most introverts have. When I was young, I would simply recede without understanding why. Since then, I've figured out ways to avoid sinking into my head. I decided at some point that I needed to remain present and available to interact with people, though it wasn't easy to adjust.

My primary defense is actually embarrassing to admit: Whenever I'm with a large group of people, I often only "half listen" to the various conversations. Terrible, I know. I block out the noise, as if I'm speed-reading. I don't even hear much of what's being said -- which is an entirely different problem, of course, but frequently an unimportant one, since much of what people say tends to be filler. What I've noticed is that I can usually pick up on the things that I should be listening to. I can usually tell when someone is being sincere, or serious, or genuine. I can tell when it's not just filler, in other words. I do worry that I miss a lot by defending myself, and I'm ashamed about not being fully there for others, but it's what I've needed in order to cope.

It's what I do in order not to get lost. Or at least not too lost.

A secondary defense is to do what other people do: provide filler. To (more or less) provide meaningless answers. It's something that goes against my nature, and it's a method that I rarely employ, but it's the simplest way to respond. It's the simplest way to remain on the surface, and to remain present, even if it never feels right. Unfortunately, since this tactic doesn't come naturally, I sometimes stumble with words while in the process of trying to use it.

On the flip side, I only use these defenses when I need to. When I'm with a friend or in an intimate setting, I always try to be fully there. I always try to be completely honest and genuine. Most likely, I'm even more fully there and more intensely in tune with the conversation than the friend that I'm with. It's one of the markers of being introverted. We excel during small gatherings.

In any case, despite how easy it is to lose an introvert, I don't really recommend it. Instead, try to keep him there with you. It's surely worthwhile.

---

End note: I'm guessing there are many other ways to lose an introvert. If you'd like to offer any up, please do. I'd enjoy receiving them.

 

Typecast

Although I don't put much stock into this stuff, I've been asked several times what my personality type is, and I thought I'd provide an answer here. Most of the tests I've taken tell me that I fit into the INFJ (introversion, intuition, feeling, judging) type. Here's how various sites describe the INFJ:

• Myers-Briggs Type Indicator (MBTI), (http://www.myersbriggs.org/)
  Seek meaning and connection in ideas, relationships, and material possessions. Want to understand what motivates people and are insightful about others. Conscientious and committed to their firm values. Develop a clear vision about how best to serve the common good. Organized and decisive in implementing their vision.
• Keirsey Temperament Sorter, (http://www.keirsey.com/)
  Described as a "counselor".
• Estimated frequency of INFJ males in the U.S., (http://www.capt.org/)
  Approximately 1-2%.

While I find these theories very interesting, and while I even consider many of the descriptions fitting, they're ultimately no more than stereotypes. They can be useful, of course, but only as useful as any pattern can be. Though I'm likely to be a certain way on a day-to-day basis, I'm not restricted to being that way. I think of the personality types system as one of many possible perspectives, and trying to make myself fit into one type is like trying to see myself through someone else's eyes. It can be fun (and insightful) to try, but in the end another person's perspective is limited.

And I prefer not to be so limited.

 

Dear Zeri: On Not Giving Enough

Friday, December 9, 2011

Hey Zeri,

I got to your Extreme Introversion blog by Googling something along the lines of "how to relate to people with Asperger's", and I've found your posts very interesting. You haven't blogged for a couple of months now, so I guess I'm not going to be surprised if you don't respond to my email. I've read a good chunk of both of your blogs, and it seems striking to me the lack of mention of a girlfriend/wife/significant other. Which perhaps is connected with why I was Googling the above phrase to begin with. I lean more so towards introversion myself, but lately I've been dealing with someone whose social needs are perhaps the most diminutive of anyone I've ever encountered. Consequently I feel rather neglected - I understand on a conceptual level that it's not that I am unappreciated, it is merely that his need for socializing is less relative to mine. Have you ever experienced something like that? Where it was expressed to you that you weren't "giving" enough? How can I avoid being overly clingy but not compromise on my personal needs?

I recognize that you might not have an answer for my issue... but your perspective would be much appreciated.

Best,
J

---

Monday, December 12, 2011

Hi J --

First, I should say that the circumstances you're describing are the opposite from what I generally experience, and the best advice I could offer is to point you elsewhere (e.g., to a book). I haven't read the book, and so I can't truly recommend it, but you might find some useful tidbits in it. Look up the title "The Introvert and Extrovert in Love: Making It Work When Opposites Attract". I've read parts of another book by Marti Laney; not all of it was relevant, but I found some good advice there. If you do read it, please let me know what you think.

As for my own perspective, I'll say that I'm almost always the more introverted partner in my relationships. Thus, I'm sure that I tend to make the one I'm with feel neglected rather than the other way around. But I've dated introverts, too, and so I do have a sense of what it might be like from their perspective. I know what it's like to feel too needy, in other words.

Though it's different with everyone, I personally doubt that being clingy is a bad thing. I know that it can get overwhelming, on a very basic level, to not be able to "escape" from the outside world, but -- despite how it may appear -- the positive attention is always a good thing. If I were to give advice about clinginess, it would be: 1) don't stop, but 2) be gentle about it. Be persistent, but don't fight about it if you can avoid it.

About not giving enough: yes, that's a constant struggle. The key, I'm guessing, is in communication. And, as it is with all relationships, the key is also in being patient. It takes time to understand how to provide for another person's needs, and we're often resistant to trying. Plus, I can say from experience that it's easy to misunderstand that a partner actually needs something to be happy; it's easy to miss that sort of thing, or to interpret it as a want, or even as a complaint. It's good to make sure that you both know what you need, and the only thing for that is communication. And then, of course, the patience that it takes to grow into the role of providing it.

Anyway, thanks for writing. If you were looking for information directly related to Asperger's, I'm sure there are far better resources. Good luck with working things out.

... Zeri

 

Hoarded Words, Like Coals In The Belly

The Adem are called the silent folk, and they speak only rarely.

The old man knew many stories of the Adem. He'd heard that they possessed a secret craft called the Lethani. This let them wear their quiet like an armor that would turn a blade or stop an arrow in the air. This is why they seldom spoke. They saved their words, keeping them inside like coals in the belly of a furnace.

Those hoarded words filled them with so much restless energy that they could never be completely still, which is why they were always twitching and fidgeting about. Then when they fought, they used their secret craft to burn those words like fuel inside themselves. This made them strong as bears and fast as snakes.

Excerpt from The Wise Man's Fear
by Patrick Rothfuss

 

The Simple Making Of Sounds

He wondered why this should be, why the things this woman was saying should delight him so, particularly when he barely understood them. He knew very well that the great majority of human conversation is meaningless. A man can get through most of his days on stock answers to stock questions, he thought. Once he catches on to the game, he can manage with an assortment of grunts. This would not be so if people listened to each other, but they don't. They know that no one is going to say anything moving and important to them at that very moment. Anything important will be announced in the newspapers and reprinted for those who missed it. No one really wants to know how his neighbor is feeling, but he asks him anyway, because it is polite, and because he knows that his neighbor certainly will not tell him how he feels. What this woman and I say to each other is not important. It is the simple making of sounds that pleases us.

Excerpt from A Fine & Private Place
by Peter S. Beagle

 

On Not Explaining Myself

I find myself explaining too often that I'm not shy, and I realize that I shouldn't be making such a fuss. It's really only a matter of semantics, and not everyone cares as much about the distinction in meaning as I do. Plus, why should it matter to me what others think? Especially when I'm not all that close to them?

The next time someone says that I'm shy, I'll remind myself that it's not important to disagree. Perhaps I'll just play along. Why resist? Why not simply agree and say that I am shy? And then maybe excuse myself because I'm too shy to continue talking with them.

Or I suppose I could just let it pass and then continue on to some other topic. It's not as if I can change anyone's mind. Still, I guess I'd rather take an interest in someone who's willing to understand my perspective as much as I'd be willing to understand theirs. But I know this is idealistic nonsense. And maybe it's not always worth the effort.

 

No Monopoly On Being Private

Recently I was asked whether I'd call myself shy. I said no, of course. I explained that the word "shy" tends to mean "timid", and I'm not that. I'm often quiet and I'm surely an introvert, but -- despite the fact that I frequently avoid them -- I'm not fearful of others.

Then, knowing that she's an extrovert and yet very private, I pointed out that possessing those two traits at the same time was a bit surprising, and that one would normally think of someone like myself as being more private.

"There's a huge difference between being an extrovert and not being able to maintain privacy," she said.

And she was right. I realized that my words were thoughtless. I bet a lot of people make the mistake of thinking of introverts as close-mouthed while thinking of extroverts as having very little discretion with their words. But that's not necessarily the case. Maybe it often appears to be, but it's probably because we see more from extroverts; our experience is skewed.

It's interesting to remember that there are misconceptions about everyone, about every group, and about every type of person. We introverts don't have a monopoly on maintaining privacy. It only seems that way.

 

Why I Should Wear Headphones More Often

Except for myself and one of the new additions to our team, my coworkers were all going to be travelling to an office in another state for meetings. I overheard them talking about it while I was banging away at my keyboard. Probably I began to pay more attention because I heard my name mentioned.

"You won't be on your own," one coworker said to the new team member who would also be staying in Seattle. "Zeri will be here, and you two can have a party."

Having heard this part, I chimed in, "Yep, I'll be here."

"And he's a riot," the coworker continued. "You can see how chatty he is."

They all laughed, and I noticed the new team member nodding. I smiled and turned back to my work. And then I wondered if the new coworker had -- within the day or two since he had been hired -- already identified me as the invisible person on the team.

Probably I would have hung out with him, and grabbed some lunch or drinks while the rest of our colleagues were away. Now I just tried to put the sarcasm out of my mind, and I wished my attention hadn't strayed from my work.

 

Silence Is Scary

She was telling me about how uncomfortable she is around her step dad. "It's even worse when he's quiet," she said.

"There's nothing wrong with being quiet," I said.

"I know, I know, but it makes me nervous," she said.

Sigh.

 

Working Well With Others

Well, the blog needs updating again. Plus, it also seems to be wanting more art.

Contributed by reader, M8.

 

Not A Shiny Bauble

Anthropology teaches us that the alpha male is the man wearing the crown, displaying the most colorful plumage and the shiniest baubles. He stands out from the others. But I now think that anthropology may have it wrong. In working with Booth, I've come to realize that the quiet man, the invisible man, the man who's always there for friends and family... that's a real alpha male. And I promise my eyes will never be caught by those shiny baubles again.

Quoted from the TV series, Bones,
by the character Dr. Temperance Brennen

 

The Arrogance In Quietness

When I was a child, our family would travel to Chicago to visit relatives every summer. All of the kids would sleep in the basement at my grandmother's house. There were three beds in the basement, a desk, a Ping-Pong table, a dining table, a washer and dryer, shelves full of knickknacks, a large freezer, an old sink, and lots of treasures stashed away. There was plenty to explore down there. I liked this. When everyone left to spend their days above, I was grateful to sometimes have the basement to myself.

While exploring down there one summer, I came across a journal that my aunt had written (though I didn't realize it was my aunt's at the time). Among other things she'd penned, one of the things that I remembered most was a comment about my grandmother's opinion towards quietness.

"Ma told me not to be so quiet," she wrote. "She says that people who don't talk act like they're better than everyone else."

This stuck with me for a long time. I didn't understand my grandmother's opinion, especially since my experience had proven the opposite. I always felt that people saw me as inferior because I didn't say much. It was interesting to me that there could be opposing perspectives. At some point, I wrote about this experience in my own journal.

And, of course, karma would demand that my journals would also be invaded at some point. My mom, possibly the nosiest person ever, somehow found a way to read my journals no matter where I hid them. One day, she saw my notes about my grandmother's opinion, and she tried to convince me that it wasn't so. I didn't really need convincing, though. I loved my grandmother, and I held no grudges against her, regardless of her opinion. Though nice of my mom, I suppose, she needn't have tried to protect me. People have different perspectives, and it was important for me to know that. Whereas many times I felt like the world was against me, or against quiet people, apparently others felt the opposite -- that quiet people were against the rest of the world.

Gaining perspective doesn't really solve anything, but it sometimes helps to temper your views of the world. Instead of wondering why everyone treats you like you're doing something wrong, you begin to wonder why everyone (including yourself) has it all wrong.

 

The Introversion Spectrum

Today I read an article that reinforces an idea I've had about myself and about introversion for a long time.  The idea is that there is a scale to introversion, and that it may fall within the same line as autism and Asperger's Syndrome.  This matches up well with my own experiences, perceptions and studies of psychology.  I've felt for many years that my personality has much in common with Asperger's, and that I wouldn't need to travel very far along this spectrum before finding myself in that territory.

This is what I mean when I call myself an extreme introvert.  There are varying levels of introversion, and I guess I'd place myself at more of a "medium-well" to "well done" level.

This is from the article at Psychology Today:

... Grimes posits that introversion is not the opposite of extroversion, but that they are two different traits altogether. And she proposes something that has come up here from time to time: That introversion actually is on the autism scale.

Grimes' thesis explains that if you take each of the factors this new model proposes and follow it along a continuum to their most extreme expressions, they correlate with the widely used Baron-Cohen Autism Spectrum Quotient.

Depending on how much we have of each factor  (and how they interact with other personality traits), we can be simply introverted or, moving along the continuum, have Asperger's syndrome or, moving further yet, have autism.

A Compelling Theory About Introversion, Extroversion, and Autism
from the blog, The Introvert's Corner

It's an interesting theory. And, even better, it fits in nicely with my tagline!

 

The Words That Find Their Way Out

... Sebastian, who might be brilliant, was also terminally soft-spoken. He wore a beard that obscured his mouth, which Chris took as emblematic: the words that found their way out were sparse and generally difficult to interpret.

Excerpt from Blind Lake
by Robert Charles Wilson

Side note: Growing up, I know that this quote represents how I was often perceived. Even now, I'm often seen this way: soft spoken. People sometimes equate this as a lack of confidence. I think it's more a lack of practice (with perhaps a lack of interest thrown in). If you don't often make conversation, sometimes you forget how to regulate your voice.

 

Inescapable Teams

Last week, one of my managers requested a self-assessment of my performance for the quarter. He also asked whether I had any suggestions for the next quarter. In my reply, I suggested that it would be nice to discuss his thoughts about the possibility of me telecommuting at some point.

I was pleasantly surprised when he responded to my email. My other manager simply ignores me whenever I bring up the topic of telecommuting. Here's the response that I received:

What is your motivation for telecommuting? I try to be very accommodating of work/life balance as I believe it leads to long term satisfaction as well as productivity. The new offices are not far away and I believe you have the shortest commute of anybody. So I really don't understand the motivation. I am a firm believer that small development teams working closely together is the best option for productive development as well as personal development. I don't like the pattern we are using of one big scrum team without much intra-team communication... While we are a pretty quiet team, I feel like having you sit with the team has been beneficial toward promoting conversation.

As a whole, it's a reasonable response and I appreciate at least being able to have a discussion about the topic. But it was clear from his response that he wouldn't understand my motivation. He firmly believes, after all, that a small development team working closely together is best -- not only for productive development, but also for personal growth. But how would he know what environment is best for my productivity? I'm fairly certain he doesn't know what's best for my personal growth.

My motivation for telecommuting isn't entirely about my introversion -- in fact, it's not even mostly about it -- but it still irks me whenever the idea of the individual loses out to that of the team. If my personal growth depends on working closely with a team, then let me be stunted. As an introvert, I feel like I've spent most of my life adapting to a social world. I've grown, yes, and I've learned how to get by in that world; meanwhile, I've neglected another kind of growth, the kind that involves just being myself. I'd like to grow in the way that I see fit, not only in the way that's best for the team.

Also, I don't see why I need to sit next to the team in order to effectively communicate with them. It's silly to think so, especially for a technology team.

In any case, I wrote a long email about my motivation for telecommuting and I tried to be clear and reasonable in return. I'm not expecting much to come from it, but at least I had a chance to plead my case. I do hope that my manager will see that there are other perspectives, though.

 

Not Cowed With Fear

To no one in particular:

You may think that I'm weak because I'm so often voiceless; or that I cower when I fail to make myself known; or that I'm timid while you wait for me to choose my words; or that I lack confidence because I keep to myself.

But it's not fear that holds me back. It's not fear that often keeps me away from you and others. And it's not fear that makes me the way that I am. I'm not afraid to be more like you; I simply have no desire to be something that I'm not.

I don't need to learn to be more loud, or more outspoken, or more visible. I don't need to become more sure of myself. What I need, if anything, is to stop allowing my personality to be questioned so much. I need, perhaps, to be more proud of who I am.

I'm not afraid to be myself, and I don't need to change. It's not fear that you see in me. It's just me.

This is how I am.

Get used to it.

 

Do We Treat Each Other Any Better?

Sometimes I wonder if we introverts can expect any better treatment from each other than we're often accustomed to getting from extroverts; after all, we should know better. But whenever I find myself saying dumb, insensitive things to others in general, I become doubtful that there's much difference between "us and them." I still like to hope, though. What better education in sensitivity is there than experience?

 

They Fail To Tease Out Details

"... [he] had the ability to insert full stops in conversations, when and where he wished them."

The Imperfectionists
Tom Rachman

 

You Don't Talk

"You don't talk," someone says to me.

These are dreaded words to hear while in the midst of any interaction. But when these words are uttered by someone close to me, they're more than dreaded. They're hurtful.

When a stranger or casual acquaintance says this to me, I feel pegged into a corner. I feel myself descending a vortex of self-consciousness, down into a personal house of mirrors. I become immobile with self-reflection. My thoughts reel with what the stranger must be seeing in me. Although several verbal responses occur to me, none of them seem to do me justice; they all seem either petty or defensive or insufficient. I'd rather just confirm the stranger's notion by not responding.

When it's a friend who says such a thing, however, I feel misunderstood, confused and hurt. Do they not see that my interaction and conversation thus far adds up to much more than most people ever get from me? Do they not see that I'm trying my best, that what I do say already feels like a lot, that, in truth, it feels like I'm blabbering? Do they not see that I'd be faking if I gave any more? And after all that we've been through, how can that be the single epitaph that is pinned on me? I feel lost and unsure of my value as a friend and human being. I question whether I should try so hard to be a friend when, after everything, I'm still seen in the very same light that complete strangers see me in.

What is it about such simple statements that makes them into blunt weapons? Is it the truth in the words that gets to me? Or is it the untruth? Has the mark been hit, or has it become blurred until it's unrecognizable?

Sometimes, I think perhaps these words are used as a ploy to goad me into talking more. If so, then it doesn't work well. For me, it has the opposite effect. I'll want to give less, if only because I feel that I've been made out to be less than I am. It's a petty reaction, I know, but that's how I feel.

One way or another, it seems that there's a lack of perceptiveness in this equation. It's either that others cannot see more in me, or it's that I actually present myself as someone whose personality can be boiled down to those three words: "you don't talk."

I hope neither of those scenarios is true.

 

Making It Up ...

There was a company holiday party recently. The coworker that I unintentionally slighted the other day spotted me there.

He said, "Hey! Long time, no see! And that's as it should be."

I said "hey" back, and then, "Despite what I said before, it's always good to see you."

"In that case," he said, "Cheers."

"Cheers," I said, and we clinked beer mugs.

Hopefully that was enough to undo the effects of telling the truth in such a bad way. Drinks and clinking glasses sometimes have a surprising force; they can undo a lot of things.

 

(In)Appropriate: Alternatives To Talking

There are so many great things to do with the human mouth. Why waste it on talking?

Barney Stinson
How I Met Your Mother

 

On Words That Make More Sense In My Head

Occasionally I notice myself being rude to others without intending it. I had one such encounter the other day, for example, while pouring myself a coffee at work.

A coworker in the kitchen with me, a guy who sits on the opposite side of the office, said, "Hey, long time, no see!"

"That's as it should be," I replied.

And I didn't realize how rude my remark seemed until a moment later, when he said, "How dare you!"

I smiled at him and chuckled. I hoped he hadn't interpreted my remark to mean that I wish for him to stay away, or that I dislike him. At the time, all I meant was that I enjoy not being seen, that it's good not to be noticed for long periods of time. I meant what I said, but I was trying to say it in a joking way. My methods failed. They often do.

It's my own fault, I guess, if I'm misunderstood. Even though I try to say what I mean, I do so very poorly. I sometimes have no tact.

Maybe it's for the best that my coworker doesn't see me often.

Sheesh.

 

Where Introverts Reside

I overheard a conversation at work today. My boss was walking to a conference room with another colleague.

My boss said, "You won't have to talk for long, don't worry. I told them you're a man of few words."

And then I wondered, is my colleague an introvert? It's hard to guess, sometimes. Introversion seems like a secret world; I'm always on the lookout for clues to who else resides there.

 

Improvement On Silence

Before you speak, ask yourself, is it kind, is it necessary, is it true, does it improve on the silence?

Indian Guru, Sai Baba