It’s World Introvert Day. I never knew such a day existed until it popped up on my Facebook feed this morning. Who decides these days? Is there a committee somewhere locked away in a conference room debating such important matters? I can only assume there’s also a World Extrovert Day, no doubt shouted from the rooftops. We introverts prefer to inform the world quietly, via a generic social media post.
I’m an introvert as in shy, retiring and socially awkward. My idea of hell is being placed in a room full of strangers and being asked to mingle. I always feel an outsider and cringe every time I open my mouth to utter some toe curling banality. I’m not good with people I don’t know, in fact I’m awful. When it comes to social butterflies I’m very firmly in the caterpillar camp.
When it comes to communicating, I certainly gravitate towards the written medium. I can hide behind my screen and think long and hard before I hit the publish button. Believe it or not, I put some thought into my words. They flow from my fingertips whereby my tangled tongue always ensures they come out back to front and upside down. Rejection is never quite as painful when it comes in the form of an e mail or message.
I’m too old in the tooth to change now. I’ll always be awkward or ‘odd’ as Fionnuala teasingly refers to me. She understands, if doesn’t always agree with, my odd ways. In work I’m a different animal. I put on a mask and slip into character as a confident, assured manager. I’m a father, husband, marathon runner, published author. I’ve got it all sorted. Oh, if only they knew.
Are you an introvert or an extrovert?