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Eri Ikezawa (she/her/hers), Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

Due to my introversion and general shyness when I was younger, I have always admired charismatic, gregarious individuals who billow a self-confident aura. It’s both strange and fascinating to me when people can say whatever is on their mind, exuding a cocksure certainty that I could never even hope to emulate. I have always been just a touch too hesitant, always toeing the line but too scared of overstepping, too worried about the consequences of letting my mouth run loose. 

And quite frankly, I just don’t think I can pull it off with the same charm as these types of exuberant people. 

But whenever I feel despondent about my conservative approach to conversations, I always remind myself that there are always pros and cons to any personality type. 

And perhaps it’s the linguistics major in me, in conjunction with my general propensity with language, but I am proud of my tendency to place importance in choosing the proper words, given any situation—and more importantly, I think that this way of approaching conversation better suits me. 

I attribute my care and attention to how I respond to any given situation to the fact that I was extremely sensitive in my childhood. And though I am keenly aware that there are people who will disagree with me, thinking people are too soft or sensitive nowadays, I have always been that way—and I do appreciate the effort in modern day time to be kinder, gentler, and more empathetic towards people and their experiences. 

I remember how anything and everything would so easily injure my feelings, no matter what the intention of the other interlocutor may have been. Of course, as I became older, I have acclimated to my surroundings and recognized the unproductivity of being hurt by everything remotely snide—not to mention the fact that my self-esteem has significantly improved. 

But despite how much more self-assured I am now, I still recall how the age-old adage “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me” just didn’t seem to apply to me. And while I certainly think that it is helpful to mitigate one’s sensitivity to an extent where one can function in society, I don’t necessarily want to contribute to harming anyone else, even if I feel that being emotionally equipped to handle callous, spiteful people is in anyone’s best interest. 

Aside from the fact that being fastidious with how one phrases something can ensure people’s feelings don’t get hurt, I also place high importance on careful diction during high-emotion, terse conversations as well—such as during confrontations. 

Although it took a great deal of time for me to feel comfortable during difficult conversations with my loved ones, I now fully recognize that confrontation can only become a healthy line of communication if everyone involved approaches it in a diplomatic, civilized fashion with the express purpose of conflict resolution. 

Too many times, whether it is through media or even in real life spats, I have witnessed people uncontrollably spewing hurtful words they cannot take back in a moment of anger or sadness. And so, through experiencing the distress of confrontation, whether indirectly or directly, I began to avoid it like it was a social reaper—an uncomfortable, grim and unwelcome presence—and claim that I was not a confrontational person. 

Of course, even now, I still prefer to maintain peace over avoidable conflict. But I was wisely informed that confrontation doesn’t need to be defined by loud outbursts of anger or sharp, cutting words—instead, it is better to perceive it as a method by which an issue can be communicated and then resolved. 

And once I rectified my mental definition of the word, I began to realize that, as someone who has a gift for formulating words into something softer and gentler—whilst having a discernibly difficult time being inauthentic to how I truly feel—I could still confront people and express what needs to be said without being cruel. 

At the end of the day, as with most concepts in society, existing in polarities doesn’t tend to bode well. It can certainly be advantageous, especially in Western society, to be an affable, social person, quick-witted with one’s words. That being said, if people become indifferent to how they present in highly emotional situations and their word choice in those situations, it can become an obstacle to resolving them as well. 

On the other hand, it’s also worth noting that we shouldn’t feel obliged to walk on linguistic eggshells when we speak with people whom we love. While being judicious with our word choices can be incredibly beneficial in the mission to better understand one another, if it becomes a situation where tailoring whatever you say is necessary to keep the peace, that is a red flag as well. 

Anytime I begin to feel morose about not being naturally boisterous and better regarded as a mincer of words, I always remind myself that there are absolutely benefits that come with being more restrained. I always give myself ample time to think and reflect before I speak, which in turn lends me the luxury of phrasing my feelings and needs in a clearer way. 

I do want to stress that by no means do I think either personality type is better or worse. I truly believe the world is brightened by people who are able to speak freely and with great confidence—and as I mentioned, I do find myself wistfully wishing I had those traits (especially in large social gatherings or when I am with people whom I’ve never met before). All the same, I think the world equally needs introspective people who are more selective with their words to settle the dust and offer their own nuggets of wisdom. 

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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.