On Chatterboxes and Shadows
January 1, 2024
Eri Ikezawa (she/her/hers), Low Entropy Volunteer Writer
Leopards and jaguars are two big cats that are often mistaken for each other due to common features in their appearances, but they are — in fact — two different animals that do not have overlapping territories. Similarly, in a world that computes and emphasizes extrovert qualities over those of the more reticent introverts, people confuse shyness and introversion.
As I’ve mentioned before in prior Low Entropy blog pieces, I wasn’t always very well-educated on introversion, nor was I particularly fond of my social habits back then either. Susan Cain, author of The Power of Introverts, once defined introverts as people who “prefer quiet, minimally stimulating environments” whilst also explaining that “extroverts need higher levels of stimulation to feel their best.” She further elucidates that stimulation can be defined in different ways — “social stimulations, lights, noise, and so on.”
Most importantly, I want to highlight where Cain differentiates between introversion and shyness, as she explains that shyness is “the fear of negative judgment,” in contrast to introversion, which is “the preference for less stimulation.” At the core of shyness lies a level of discomfort, while that is not necessarily implied with introversion. She acknowledges that the two “traits do overlap, though psychologists debate to what degree.”
To most people’s complete and utter shock, I am an introvert. This is mostly due to that very misconception that introversion and shyness are synonymous. Although I find it quite displeasing and stress-inducing to be in an environment where the main attendees are people among whom I am not comfortable, I have been told that I have competent social skills (which, to be fair, is nice to hear after years of debilitating social anxiety).
Even though I am relieved that, through years of practice, I have grown to be able to present myself as a social person, I do think it involved a great deal of adaptation and camouflaging for me to be able to do so.
The ability to distinguish between the two has really helped me navigate as an introvert. It used to confuse me so much why some environments and some people completely overstimulated and overwhelmed me, until I was rendered completely mute in the moment, unable to keep pace with the discussion; I always felt as though I was waiting for a conversational pause that never happened. This feeling of frustration with my inability to maintain the speed of conversation was further compounded by the fact that sometimes I lost interest in the topic altogether.
I began to loathe the fact that I could never predict when I would become a lively chatterbox, bursting at the seams with my own contributions to the conversation, or a silent, sullen shadow, waiting to stop being overstimulated or apathetic to the conversation. Once the vocabulary entered my lexicon, I retrospectively recognized why I was so embroiled in conversations with certain people who lit my internal hearth into a blaze, while others snuffed it out altogether.
It all finally made sense, a nonsensical kaleidoscope of experiences, fluttering slowly into place, now a perfect puzzle.
Just as healing is not linear, neither is self-discovery. Despite the fact I felt like certain aspects of my personality and experiences were clarified — laser vision correction for my soul — it didn’t mean I suddenly had it all figured out. Up until even a few years ago, I still overextended myself to try and fit into social stratospheres that I wasn’t equipped to traverse.
Now I realize that there are places where I may be willing to adapt and stretch myself a little thinner — for example, in professional settings. If it could reward me with greater opportunities and skills, I could compromise and justify a little bit of discomfort and overstimulation for something worthwhile. But, on the other hand, I now know I am not willing to negotiate boundaries and comfort levels in my personal life. I should be making active choices to surround myself with people who make me happy, inspire me, challenge me, support me — people who gently guide me into becoming better every day.
I need people to understand and respect that I need space — quiet, silence, peace, solitude — without taking it personally. I need people to give me time to respond, the same way I wait for people to answer my questions. I need people who recognize that small bouts of silence between us is the greatest compliment — a vulnerable display of comfort and contentment.
It used to feel like maybe this was a lot to ask for, but once I found my people, I realized that if people really want to, they will make an effort to understand you — and, quite frankly, it’s something I need from people, since I make a concerted effort to understand and commiserate with those whom I cherish in return. And it has never once posed a significant or agonizing issue with anyone who has been a true companion to me.
I do want to emphasize, after everything that I have said, that I do not find being an introvert to be something I am ashamed of — nor do I wish I was extroverted. I found contentment in silence, introspection and independence. I consider the workings of my internal world to be a blessing — a safe haven from everyday environmental stressors.
Maybe due to the heavy prominence and rewards of extroverted behavior, it may have taken me longer to recognize and identify what being an introvert was. And yes, there were moments where I wished I was gifted with the natural charm and magnetism of my more externally and environmentally inclined counterparts. But once I reframed how I viewed introversion and realized how fortunate I was for my slower, more cerebral approach to responding to external stimuli, I accepted my introversion for what I now view it as: a gift.
Sometimes, it really can feel like a heavy burden — especially in Western society where people who strive to appear more confident, strident and charismatic, and they are rewarded for this behavior, whereas introverts tend to blend into the shadows and backgrounds. But once you hone your skills and learn how to maneuver yourself, playing to your strengths, you might realize that introversion is one of the best hallmarks of your personality.
I truly believe understanding and acceptance, which leads to better navigation of your personality and skills, is really how I operate successfully as an introvert in an extrovert’s world.
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My name is Eri Ikezawa and I have an extended minor in psychology and a major in linguistics. I’m still on the path to quelling questions about myself and the direction I want to head in, but in the meantime, I have always wanted to find a way to help others and contribute to a community dedicated to personal development and self-love.
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