I’ve talked a lot about my introversion. Is that the right word? Anyways, I always wonder if I’m the only introvert in the world.
It’s probably more likely that introverts can’t find each other because we both want to hide in our car and never talk to each other.
My car is my safety zone. It’s like a little bubble of aloneness. I don’t have to talk to people. Maybe a little wave.
For some reason, I do really well in business meetings. I can talk with confidence and give my pitch or ideas with no sign of my anxiety. But person to person, with no idea of what to say, or might come up. It’s scary.
So I avoid, I cancel. I avoid “lunch” like the plague. It sounded like a good idea at the time, but when it comes close, the anxiety builds and it’s the last thing I want to do.
So why do I do this? Maybe it’s the unknown. Maybe it’s those variables that hold me back. I know why I hate chit chat, mingling and small talk. Even typing it makes me cringe. I believe this is because it’s not real connection. It’s surface talk. No one gets real, just shallow talk. But when it has a chance to actually get real and deep, I avoid.
You might question why I can do this, type my feelings and be completely real and open with every aspect. Writing is a whole different way of communication. That happens to be how I connect with my feelings and organize my thoughts. I don’t know why I share it publicly. Always hoping that I connect with someone who feels the same way and help them feel okay. Or maybe letting you feel okay with what you are going through.
It never started out that way, it was a place to record my story. Mostly for my daughter and those going through a prophylactic mastectomy. But somewhere along the line, I’ve shared everything. It’s been my therapy and my art. I found a place and a way to incorporate writing into my problems and what is going on in my life.
I’m sorry if you’ve been someone I’ve avoided, canceled, not answer the phone, or return your calls. Or purely saying no to “lunch” or anything that involves small talk. It’s not you. It’s me. My insecurities, my fears. Everything in me avoids face to face, small groups, large groups. It doesn’t differentiate, it just is my reality.