Knowing Yourself

14 May 2021

It’s taken me a long time to determine whether I’m an introvert or an extrovert. I would assume I was an introvert, and then I’d remember how much I love being around my friends and family and how I hate being lonely. Any time I think I’m an extrovert, I remember how much I need my quiet time and how bad I am at reaching out to people. There can be such harsh stereotypes attached to both sides of the spectrum, so sometimes I try to pretend I’m just an ambivert, right between the two concepts. But if that was true, why did I feel outgoing at some times and reserved at others? It didn’t make sense, and I was unwilling to try and wrap my head around it for fear of getting dizzy. This year, however, has been a turning point in my life for knowing who I was. The trial of COVID-19 helped reveal my genuine personality and unveil who I could be. At first, it amplified the confusion. When the pandemic first hit, I was distressed that I’d be missing school and staying away from my friends. Did that make me an extrovert? Then, later in the pandemic, I started feeling a sense of pride in my structured, daily habits, a routine I wouldn’t have been able to develop with the presence of others. Did that make me an introvert? The concepts spun around me in chaos, but thanks to the combination of both loneliness and peace, I was okay to leave them floating for a while; to experience life for once and let those encounters reveal who I truly was. I got a job as a lifeguard at the YMCA. Though I didn’t like talking to strangers, I thought this experience would help me break out of my shell- and of course, I enjoy making friends. I began panicking any time I knew I’d have to talk to someone. I’d begin planning what I’d say in my head, I’d start tagging on qualifications. “I’ll only go over and talk to that person if they’re struggling to get into the pool.” “I’ll only discipline that little kid if he swings on the handrails one more time.” A cliché idea of how an introvert may think. As time passed, however, I could walk up to a patron and speak with them if need be. I would reach out to the other guards and try to be their friends. I was talking to people- so clearly, I was an extrovert. Again, the chaotic and opposing sides followed me through each situation. However, as I continued to work the job, the mists of confusion began to settle and allowed me to see more clearly. I learned that I could talk to people, but I didn’t have to to entertain myself. I enjoyed making friends and involving myself in conversation, yet I was okay to stay on my phone while other people chatted.

After years of chaos and cloudy judgement, I’ve finally decided: I am an introvert. I finally had a better grasp on who I was, and I felt as though my self-respect had grown stronger. The only reason this conclusion took so long to find is because the world has added so many requirements to being one or the other. I’d been told I wasn’t an introvert because I had friends that I enjoyed spending time with. I liked going to school to be with people and I loved making jokes for others to enjoy. I wasn’t the anticipated quiet, shy individual that the world claims an introvert is. The words “introvert” and “extrovert” have been tainted with society’s expectation that a personality comes with the phrase. We as a community adopted the fallacy that if you’re boisterous, love being around people, and can’t stand being alone, you’re an extrovert. If you’re quiet, love being alone, and can’t stand being around people, you’re an introvert. If you have two opposing qualities, or you’re somewhere between the two extremes, you get filed into the bland and boring “ambiverts” category. This cliché definition of each has shrouded the truth that “introvert” and “extrovert” only define how much one prefers to socialize. The words do not define your personality and they do not command any power concerning who you are.

I am an introvert. Though the world could hear that word and decide they know every little detail of my personality, it defines one aspect of the thousands that make me who I am. It doesn’t mean that I’m addicted to my phone and can’t stand the presence of human beings in my life. It doesn’t mean that I hide in my bedroom when there are guests over, afraid to let someone see me or try to start a conversation. Being an introvert means so much less about me than society claims it does. This understanding was a turning point for my sense of self. Once I was able to break through the stereotype and realize that I didn’t have to be so black and white in my personality, it encouraged me to establish who I am more strongly. I learned that I could ignore the expectations of the world and differ from the mold society demands we fit. I learned to be myself.

My name is __*. I have __* brothers and __* sisters, and I live in a wonderful home as the __* child. My parents love each other very much and have taught me and my siblings well. I have three parakeets, each of which loves to sing as loud as they can. I’m in a few AP classes. I like AP ____*, but I loathe AP ____*. I love the color pink- and not the hot pink that most people like. I have a severe sweet tooth and lack patience, but I’m learning to be okay with my flaws. I believe in virtuous living and double dates in safe environments. I’m religious, nerdy, flamboyant, creative, and incredibly naïve. I love my friends, my family, and my alone time. I try to reach out to others more frequently, and I try to spend more time reading by myself.

I am an introvert.

But that doesn’t tell you much about me.

* These words have been redacted due to the author being a minor.