introvert Archives - By Hannah Davis

The other night, I commented to a group of friends, “I’m shy.”

I’ve been saying some version of this for years: “I’m shy until you really get to know me.” Or, “I really am shy, but I’m just good at faking it.”

The thing is, I think I’m wrong. I’m not shy at all.

I’m just potentially awkward and sometimes anti-social. Which is totally different.

I think I must have declared myself shy before I heard of the concept of introverts and extroverts. Growing up, I just thought, “Everyone I know always wants to hang out and PARTAY! And I just want to sit home and watch a movie. I must be shy.”

No. That’s not shy.

Sometimes, when I’m talking to people, I don’t know what to say. But I keep talking anyway. Because that’s what I do. Or, I stop abruptly, because their eyes are glazed over. So that’s awkward. But not shy.

It was a couple of weeks ago when it started to dawn on me that I might not be shy. I was talking to someone, who said that she’d heard when a person is shy, it’s a form of self-obsession. Because they are always worrying about what other people think of them.

Not trying to hate on actual shy people. But what I just shared is obviously scientific FACT. You can tell, because I heard it from someone, who heard it from someone. And that’s how FACTS are proven.

But I started to wonder. Because I have lots of faults, but worrying about what people think about me isn’t on the top of my list. Mainly because I forget to worry about it. When I do find out that people think something about me, I’m always very, very surprised.

Whether they think nice things or what could be construed as not-so-nice things, I just kind of marvel that they used brain space on me at all. So, it’s actually very thoughtful of them, either way.

But it’s weird, because I’ve self-styled myself as shy for years. Realizing I might actually not be is like an identity crisis or something.

Instead of saying, “I’m shy,” what do I say now?:

“I’m a bit awkward and need copious amounts of alone time in order to avoid feeling like an insane person.”

It doesn’t quite have the same ring to it.

Or, I could just let them figure it out for themselves. But that would require people to be thinking about me, which I doubt they really have the time for.

It was so much easier when I was shy.

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My kids are done with school for the summer.

The little Davises are the best. They’re cute and cuddly and funny. But they’re also loud, and whiny, and fighty-with-each-other.

And I’m an introvert.

I mean, I like people, but I like them in controlled doses, separated by healthy intervals of being left alone. And kids are like people times 200.

The movies they watch sing the same song every 5 minutes. Loudly. And they watch them on constant repeat, while they bounce on the couch and invade each other’s space, resulting in vociferous complaining.

And when that gets dull, they run upstairs and play soccer. In the house. Until someone falls down the stairs. Loudly.

Every 30 minutes, they demand snack. And lunch. And snack.

And they want to do stuff:

“Mommy! Can we go to the park!!!” (At 9AM, when I’m in my PJ’s.)
“Can we go to Anabelle’s house?” (Sure, kids. We’ll just invite ourselves over. When it’s still 9AM and I’m still in my PJ’s.)
“Let’s go to the splash park!” (It’s 65 degrees out and all the swimsuits are in the laundry.)
“Are we going somewhere tonight? We NEVER go anywhere.” (Lies.)
“Let’s go ride bikes! Let’s draw chalk! Can I get the play-doh out? I want to paint! Let’s get the trains out of the very back of the closet! Can we have ice cream?”

I’m a little out of my introvert comfort zone.

But I’m adapting. Because I can go in my room, fold laundry, and watch a movie on my laptop with ear-buds in. It almost feels like I’m alone. Almost.

Until someone pokes their head in and asks for a popsicle.

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