(An Introvert’s musings)
One thing I’ve always been aware of is how little social energy I have, compared to everyone else I’ve crossed paths with. By this, I mean the energy to interact with people on daily basis. I think it stems from being deeply introverted.
I never thought that I was normal even as a kid, mostly because everyone else was always full of chatter, while I was most content at just sitting and observing the scenes. I could do that much, as long as I wasn’t required to mingle.
It became enhanced as I grow older, I got dragged to family functions and reunions, it was the only way I could go. I hated large gatherings, ones I’m especially late to for reasons completely beyond me. I’m a punctuality freak. Being late means the party is already ruined.
I snuck out a lot to my safe haven; an uncompleted building with a view that had to do. Being alone with my thoughts was all I strived for, really. Watching the rest of the world go on with no pressure on me.
I had always been inquisitive; you could win me over by offering to answer my quiet questions. I like to get to the bottom of issues, break them all apart till they are in bits, I’m convinced somehow, it’s the only way we could ever get to resolve issues completely.
The Islam religion has this set among them, where women are always shrouded from head to toes, except in their bedrooms. You could be neighbors with them for years and never see past the little opening between their forehead and nose. The Yoruba tribe refer to them as “Eleha”. Eleha was my nickname growing up, a friend’s mom called me once and it stuck. I had this habit of keeping to my mom’s shop with whichever new book I was reading.
Introverted people are considered strange in the part of the world I’m in, and being strange was always a shameful thing to be. So you make up for it by being the nicest in the room; making sure your quiet haven’t offended anyone, join other children in presentations for thanksgiving, do the quiz and come home with the prize, take the blame for your bubbly older sister’s misgivings, make up for your shortcomings.
I had great friend amidst the societal phobia thing I had going on though. They caught on quick that I couldn’t be as chatty, and understood. At a point, they were my steady source of novels.
I always thought there had to be more to life than what I was born to, I wanted more, but life was fair.
I start off at parties being a chatterbox and get drained halfway. I want to leave almost as soon as I get in. I’ll still try to be involved if you want me to be, but you’d almost have a rethink for how irritable it could get.
Being an Introvert should be considered extreme sport for all the criticisms you’d get for being you, but it’s the only extreme sport I’d rather be in.
