Introversion Implosion

Disclaimer: My thoughts below were mostly composed in a manic fit, as a note on my iPhone, while trying to get ready for work this morning. These thoughts and highly charged opinions are based on my reactions to THIS ARTICLE, which is titled:

Am I Introverted, or Just Rude?

Assuming that KJ's piece is not a highly sophisticated satire where I completely missed the humor (or was humor-impaired, as my dad would put it), I consider this piece rather conflicted and judgmental.

Here are the final sentences of KJ's article (spoiler alert): 

"I may be naturally reserved, and more comfortable alone than I will ever be in a crowd, but I am not at the mercy of my nature. There are many excuses for failing to conduct ourselves with courtesy, for avoiding gatherings and conversations we don’t think we will enjoy, or for just putting on our pajamas and staying home. Too many of them boil down to just that one thing: We care more about ourselves than about the needs of others.

That’s not about introversion. It’s just an ordinary version of selfishness."

Where do I start with this? I have been thinking about it in between everything else today, since this was the article I read to force my mind awake this morning. My defenses immediately spiked while reading the title, so I consciously pried myself open (and out of bed) to be receptive to the message it represented. I found myself nodding and agreeing more than halfway into the article, even identifying with KJ's comments about her upbringing.  I was doing all right until I read the last three sentences: "We care more about ourselves than about the needs of others. That’s not about introversion. It’s just an ordinary version of selfishness."

My insides screamed, whaaaaaaat?!?! Are you fucking kidding me? Come on KJ, give yourself some good old-fashioned credit here. Also, how can you so casually, yet blatantly associate being an introvert with "bad behavior?" I have at least one part of me that is not full of self-hatred, and that is the part that knows I DO care about others, maybe even too much at times, and certainly to a fault . . . but an "ordinary version of selfishness" dismisses what might be just the opposite of a selfish response when introverts do not outwardly participate in certain social contexts. 

Sure, I am selfish a lot, and I attribute that to being human. Selfishness is real in many instances, and I am uncomfortably familiar with it . . . every time I am late for work (not because I don't care, but because I am horrible at managing my time -- truly, I have lost some executive functioning over the years of being a single parent, and I am selfish in not pausing to address it more effectively) . . . every time I get impatient with someone who is driving really slowly in front of me (when I am already late for work) . . . every time I choose to sit -- with ice cream and chocolate next to me -- and write a novel on my thoughts about introversion . . .  instead of writing the ten thank you notes I need to write (yes, I am referring to this very moment). I am not discounting selfishness as an actual attribute. What troubles me is that being rude and selfish is a human tendency, not one that defines or is defined by introversion. In fact, I have found that when I have not honored the real introversion that is a genuine attribute of my personality, my social filters have faded, causing me to lack the sensitivity and self-awareness that I rely on to keep my selfish tendencies in check. My version of introversion (sorry for the redundancy there) is  sometimes what keeps me from being too selfish when interacting with people. It is what keeps me tuned in to who needs a call from me, who needs a letter from me, who needs my attention in a way that maybe I need to offer as one close friend in a person's life or the therapist that is paid to be present and notice.

The funny thing is, I had no idea that any introvert experienced and interpreted Susan Cain's book about introverts as an "introversion explosion" . . . um . . . is that even possible? Okay, I admit that it is possible, and I kind of like the sound of it. There was a lot of talk about Cain's ideas after her ideas went viral, and I was frustrated at least once when a friend casually stated that it could be problematic if everyone used introversion as an excuse. I admit that I wondered how in the world anyone could envy the life of a true introvert enough to take it on as an identity in order to use it as an excuse to get out of obligations. Equally, I don't relate to using my introversion as an excuse to blow off the few events or obligations where I am keenly aware that my lack of presence would be offensive (i.e. family weddings and funerals, baby showers, etc.). I guess I can kind of see how some people might consider introversion as an excuse to escape social pressure . . . but then, is what they are truly seeking automatically selfish, or are they just seeking a validly needed breather from their busy social lives?

Anyhow, it is difficult for me to understand what could be so desirable about introversion, having faced some of my worst nightmares as a child trying to overcome it, feeling certain that is was absolutely despicable. And after all of that exertion to be extraverted, I still came out of adolescence feeling unacceptable as a person. So maybe the "introversion explosion" did happen, but "introversion implosion" seems more accurate to me, since I am very familiar with that. 

And honestly, I can respect what KJ processed as a validly understandable -- even if a bit surprising -- reaction, where,  "Suddenly, a resistance to social intercourse became, not just acceptable, but cool." So she went through a phase where she needed to say "No" to a bunch of social obligations. So her decision to ditch a "family-oriented athletic function" one time so she could read a book in her car was inherently selfish? I wonder what the leading self-compassion experts and neuroscientists of today would have to say about this?

I would argue that considering oneself that desperately needed at any number of social events is a reason to check in with the other side of what I see as a "selfish" polarity, which is a context where one considers oneself a bit too important in a situation to miss it (as opposed to ditching social events because one consciously decides not to care about them or the people involved). This reminds me of the commonly used term, "God complex" at the end of the continuum that I see as a self worth polarity, with "I am worthless to everyone" being on the other end. I just came up with these labels for polarities, so I am not standing by them as fixed truths . . . just sharing part of my introvert explosion of thoughts.

I realize, at this point, that I am probably being very rude by taking up public digital space to share these thoughts. However, let me shift gears a bit, and express gratitude. 

Thank you, KJ, for excusing social anxiety as a reason to validly avoid social situations. Thank you, in fact, for writing these words and facilitating my exploration of some very old pain inside of me. 

I am left with swirling thoughts surrounding some other factors in this whole concept of the obligations we have as human beings to be social. Perhaps it is a matter of semantics, but while I wholeheartedly agree that human connection is a universal and unchangeable need, attending social events is one of thousands of ways we have to connect with others. Where is it determined that going to the PTA meeting or fundraising event is universally superior to other forms of contribution to these causes and connection with others regarding them? And, concerning your interview with Susan Cain regarding her ideas, I do agree with her response, “. . . you have to consider the other person’s point of view instead of getting wrapped up in your own discomfort.”That makes sense. I have read her book and listened to her TED talk, and I gathered that her focus was much more about not overlooking the quiet contributors and equally considering their ideas along with the ideas of extraverted folks. I felt she did a wonderful job emphasizing that it is important to honor all authentic expression of the Self -- whether introverted, extraverted, or somewhere in between. Since when does it have to be a competition? And how can we really judge if people are being selfish, rude, or simply recognizing their limits when they bow out of a social obligation?

And then there is my whole upbringing of having to be a polite, sociable person to be acceptable. Being well-mannered and outgoing were some of the highest values passed down on my mom's side of the family. I am grateful that my grandmother taught me manners with a lot of love, so I don't resent having learned them or regularly using them. I am grateful that she valued me as a person at least as much as she was eager to teach me how to eat without having a "grand canyon" between me and the table. In fact, the manners she taught me have helped me manage nearly every social situation with less anxiety than I would otherwise exhibit. Job interviews come to mind as situations I can manage because I learned the skills to be good enough to get a lot of jobs. 

Not only did my grandma teach me manners, but my mom is the master of social interaction. I honestly do not know anyone who had as much confidence as my mom demonstrated in a variety of social situations while I watched from my (according to KJ, selfish and rude) quiet observing place. My upbringing was superior regarding exposure to social situations. Current triggered defenses aside, I may have struggled as a child at times, but I believe I set aside being rude to obey the social rules -- most of the time -- and I passed social interaction 101-999 with honors by the time I entered college and joined a prestigious sorority on campus. I had reached the height of my training at that point. 

And then I noticed something nagging at me from the inside. Yeah, that introvert had not died, but was buried quite deep. As a result, I felt very fake and very empty, and I felt I had done some pretty rude things because of my obedience to the social rules. Thankfully, in spite of my efforts to be social, there were still plenty of friends who relied on my introvert qualities. This is not to put down being extraverted or social -- not at all. It is is to point out the high price we may end up paying when we are fake -- whatever that means for each person. Sometimes it means that we have to be it for a while to figure out that we actually just want to stop exhausting and suffocating ourselves with the chore of wearing a mask to please others. 

So then, is the value of extroversion in American society intrinsic? (How is that for an oxymoron?) Isn't the weight of this value based almost entirely on the cultural norms from which it stems? Is there a right or wrong? Each situation and person are different, so I don't think generalizations can be validly made regarding the intrinsic value of social habits.

I have discovered that the way I contribute best to an organization is most often through my ability to observe and be intuitive regarding the needs of others by quietly noticing. Considering this in the context of sorority life as a 20-year-old, there were people who came to me to escape social pressure, and I guess that confirms both sides of the argument – if it even is an argument. On one hand, it went against my genuine Self to join a sorority, and it was extremely uncomfortable -- especially when we were making choices about who was "qualified" to join us the year after I had been chosen, based on who-really-knows-what (oh yeah, it was that wonderful grandma of mine, who had been a member of the same sorority and granting me legacy privileges). But . . . on the other hand . . .  I guess if I hadn't joined a sorority I might not have been able to reach people who needed my introversion to cope with what was so fucked up about the college Greek system in the first place. So KJ has a point or two in that regard -- and she also reinforces a vicious cycle of people-pleasing that triggers my deepest desire to defend introversion as a potentially selfless attribute (just like most other attributes a person can express).

BUT here is something to consider . . . And I am sorry if this is rude, BUT my true self is just not an asset in most social situations – no matter how smooth and palatable I try to be -- especially if there are more than six people present, and also if there are no musical instruments available to play -- either to boost the success of or avert people's attention away from possible social interactions with me. 

KJ does make another great point about challenging our comfort zones, and social anxiety aside (I do feel I have it), I am constantly encouraging my clients to reach out to others, to join activities, and to get involved in the community -- even if it is uncomfortable. But my reasons for encouraging social involvement are hardly about not being rude. They are much more about feeling less isolated and exceptional in their suffering (so yes, that does mean less self-absorbed, too).

I admit that being a therapist, where I am constantly focusing on others, has decreased my desire to go out and party. I am far from being the model of social interaction I so readily encourage at work, while sitting comfortably uncomfortable in the holding space I have created for people to safely be everything they aren't allowed to be when they enter their social and familial contexts. It is a cyclical paradox, and it may be a place of hiding if I dare to admit that KJ and other introvert-challengers are at least a teensy bit correct about using introversion as an excuse to avoid real life connection with the strangers in our communities.

So yes, it is a comfort zone for me to sit with somebody, one on one, and listen to their problems. It even energizes me most of the time. However, there are days when it seems there is a negative correlation between the amount of time I spend as a therapist and the amount of energy I have to shoot the breeze with anyone -- stranger or not -- who is not already one of my three extremely close friends or unfortunate parents who hear a lot of venting from me because they have no choice. 

But at the end of all of these thoughts, I am still left with these ones (some of the first I recorded in my phone note-taking frenzy), dominating the rest: 

Who the hell really cares when I show up socially anyway? Even when I try to awkwardly insert myself into a conversation with an acquaintance at a social event, I feel I am burdening the situation, not improving it. I feel I am being less civil when I participate in most social events than when I stay home and spare people the awkwardness of my presence. When I do venture out into public or private events that involve strangers and acquaintances (I am cringing as I consider the last baby shower, parent meeting, and even open mic that I attended in recent months) I often feel invisible when it seems I do want to be noticed for a few minutes, but mostly I just want to be invisible because – again – I feel I am adding discomfort to a whole situation rather than fulfilling some honorable duty as a citizen or gracing a crowd with some benevolent contribution. 

I feel much better now. I think I might actually join a Meetup this weekend. 

Who knows? Maybe people won't be too rude to me about my social anxiety.

If you happened to make it this far into my thoughts without dying of boredom and/or exhaustion, what are your thoughts?