How to Keep Your Introversion from Being a Prison

The word introvert is a highly misunderstood term. If you look it up in the dictionary, you’ll find it defined as a shy, reticent person who enjoys spending time alone. But even that does not capture the full picture, nor does it describe every introvert.

I don’t consider myself shy even though I tend to be quiet in large crowds. I’m more comfortable observing people and listening to what others have to say. That doesn’t mean I don’t have anything to say. I have lots to say and sometimes I even say it. But I am more reflective and contemplative about things, and I think that has to do with being an introvert.

Introverts can be social and they can behave as extroverts and speak to an audience. The main difference is that introverts need quiet, alone time following these social interactions to recharge. Extroverts, by comparison, feel recharged by those same social interactions that introverts find so draining. It’s not to say we don’t or can’t enjoy them, but for whatever reason, it leaves us feeling wiped out.

I could probably list a hundred little differences between introverts and extroverts, such as how extroverts are more likely to call someone they just met by a nickname. If they are introduced to someone named Matthew, they are comfortable calling the guy Matt. Whereas I would feel uncomfortable calling someone by a shorter name, when they’d been introduced by a full name. But my focus today is really how to not let being an introvert hold you back.

I didn’t realize I was an introvert until I was an adult. I was social in high school, stood in the spotlight in different situations, and I couldn’t wait to go see my friends. But looking back, even then, I enjoyed spending time reading, which in part is due to my love for books, but part of it was due to the solitude and quiet that reading brought into my life. It provided a chance to recharge after being around people all day.

Identifying that I was an introvert as an adult, gave me permission to skip social encounters. The more solitude I allowed myself, the more I wanted. This became particularly true when I became a full-time writer and didn’t need to leave the house. I wouldn’t describe myself as agoraphobic, but in many ways, I acted like one. I even offered my house as a meeting place for my writing group, so there was one less time I had to leave my house each week. And sometimes I wouldn’t leave the house for weeks.

I even found that I stopped making eye contact with people. It started because I can easily read people’s emotions through their eyes and sometimes I didn’t want to take on that extra emotion from people, while part of it was because it was one more way to close off my interactions with people and make it a little more comfortable for myself. Though I don’t think I was fully aware of that second part.

When I started hosting a monthly poetry night, I made a conscious effort to make eye contact with people. That’s when I noticed other introverts avoided eye contact too. But I knew that the best way to help guide people through their fear of public speaking and sharing their poetry was to make eye contact, so I could read what was holding them back and help them navigate through those fears so they could share their work. I’ve always been better about hiding my introversion than others. Partly because as an introvert I don’t always feel comfortable letting people know what I think or how I feel about something, so I certainly don’t want them to see a part of me I viewed as a weakness.

As a result of being good at hiding my introversion, I now often tell people I’m an introvert since it’s not obvious by watching me. This has been my attempt to encourage people, to tell them that I know how difficult it is for them to speak in public, but I know that since I did it that they can too.

It’s been almost a year since hosting my first poetry night, and I dare say that I might be getting comfortable with public speaking. Perhaps not in the way that you would imagine someone being comfortable would feel. I find that the adrenaline coursing through me makes me think I’m rambling even when I’m not. I have to make a list of points I want to talk about so I don’t forget in my panic. I often reflect on how I did as a host and try to determine how to improve so the experience for the poets is better. But the greatest thing for me now is that I can take on other hosting duties or public speaking opportunities without hesitation. In my book, that’s huge.

What not everyone knows is that just over three years ago, I couldn’t even read my work to my writing group. Even when the group was still small and only had two other people in it. Two years ago, I read at my first open mic. When I started hosting poetry night last August, the first one we held was only the third open mic I’d ever read at.

To look back at where I started, I’m in awe of how far I’ve come. The thing is, it almost didn’t happen. I was getting so comfortable in my introverted ways I had made my world very small, one might even call it a prison. And I was comfortable there. Although I do remember a moment when I realized how closed off my life had become and felt a bit of alarm.

Having come so far from fully indulging my introverted desires for solitude to opening myself up to possibilities, I know which way is the better path, and it’s where I am now. By far. It’s not even a fair contest really because where I am now is so much better. And the great thing is, I feel I’m only getting started. I feel that opportunities will only expand what I’m doing now and that’s exciting, but something I wouldn’t have even wanted to be a part of a few years ago.

The way out of a self-made prison starts with a single step. Read your work in front of your dog, or even an empty room. Then add a person to that equation. Move on to reading it out loud to your writing group or your family.

The thing I’ve had going for me this whole time is that I promised myself years ago that I would never let my fears stand in my way of writing. And sure my fears have slowed me down at times, and I’ve had to give myself pep talks to get through them, but I have always stayed true to that promise. And what’s more, I constantly challenge myself to push harder, to take on bigger challenges. When I go read to a new audience, I usually pick the piece that I know is hardest for me to read. I do it because I know if I can get through that, then the next challenge won’t seem so hard.

I hope, whether you’re an introvert or an extrovert, this post encourages you to keep challenging yourself in whatever you pursue. And realize that if you are an introvert, there are some tasks like public speaking that appear easier for others, and it may be challenging for you. But the truth is, you’ll get through it, and the next time you’ll have the knowledge that you made it through it once so you know you’ll get through it again. And like with anything, practice makes things easier (though I would have sworn this wasn’t true for public speaking even a few months ago, but what a difference a few months make).