Introverts Have Fun, Not That You’d Always Know

If you want a spark of life in your party, you wouldn’t necessarily invite me.  I wasn’t always this way.  I wasn’t always quiet in groups.  I didn’t always hang back.  In my earliest years, I created plays and acted them out with my cousins.  I even organized a carnival to raise money for charity.   

Yet something happened.  I didn’t know it back then but discovered it decades later when my mother showed me my second grade report card from Charles Andrews Elementary School.  The teacher had written “Terry is a good student but he talks too much.”  My mother had written, in the parent’s comment space: “His father has talked to him.”  Case closed; mouth shut.  I don’t know what my Dad said; maybe it was nothing.  But I have been pretty much an introvert ever since.

I’m familiar with Jungian psychology and neuroscience, so perhaps I always had a genetically determined preference for introversion.  I get my energy from going inside.  I also keep a lot to myself (just ask my wife).  I don’t say much in social settings of more than four people.  I tire easily in crowds (if you can get me in them).  I hate going to the shopping mall (which I think should be spelled “maul”).  I rarely speak at work until I have rehearsed in my head what I want to say. 

I’d like to say that this is never much of a problem, but sometimes it is.  In relationships, we introverts hear things like: “You never tell me what you’re thinking!”  “Why are you so quiet?” “You don’t look like you’re having fun.”  What’s closer to the truth is: “I’d tell you what I’m thinking when I’m done thinking - if you ask.” “I wasn’t aware that I was being quiet.” “I am having fun.” 

At work, introverts can be overlooked in meetings and not considered leadership material because our cultural model of leadership puts so much emphasis on being verbal, vocal, and animated.  In my case, I always had to count on someone telling me the rumors flying around the office because I was clueless.  The co-worker I knew best was the one who sat in the office one door away, but that was not because we talked all the time.  He was an introvert too, so we just sent each other emails rather than just walking next door, not wanting to intrude on each other’s silence.

But here’s the thing.  The world needs introverts just as much as it needs extroverts.  We bring important things to the table.  We rarely utter thoughts we have not thought about (usually a lot).  This means we are often doing a lot of listening before doing any speaking, and listening leads to learning.  It’s hard to learn when you’re talking.  We rarely make inappropriate or intemperate remarks because we’ve rehearsed and filtered our words before they become speech.  Indeed, some research suggests that introverts rise to the top of organizations faster than extroverts because they have not gotten themselves into trouble by blurting things out that they can’t take back. Introverts can also be good synthesizers because we’re taking in what others say and looking for themes, commonalities, and ways to build on others’ ideas.  When we finally speak, perhaps people listen a bit more because they so rarely hear from us.

Yet, and here’s the lovely contradiction that makes life so interesting.  We can also be extroverted, very extroverted, when the situation demands it – perhaps surprising even ourselves.  After all, I became an executive education trainer – up in front of people all the time.  I love that role, perhaps because it gives me a way to be “on stage” again (recapturing my youthful attraction to performing?).   Of course, I do a LOT of introverted preparation before I teach.  I’m told that some performers - on stage, screen, in music – are also introverts.  Some even throw up before they go on.

So we can all be both an extrovert and an introvert.  Even Carl Jung, whose formulation became part of the popular tool called the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator, thought so.  Almost no one is all one or all the other. That, in fact, is an important understanding for all of us on all kinds of traits and behaviors.  I have my extroverted moments and my introverted ones, just as I have my sad and happy ones, my scheduled and serendipitous ones and my anxious and carefree ones.  Diversity is not just out there but inside us.  It’s the gift of our humanity.

Nevertheless, if you’re planning that party, don’t expect much – unless you can find a way to get me on stage!

Photo Credit: Elena Koycheva on unsplash