Growing up as an introvert

Molly Smith
Aug 22, 2017 · 4 min read

I have been an introvert all my life. However, it wasn’t until recently that I acknowledged this and accepted this about myself. Thank the universe for the internet, otherwise I couldn’t have named it.

Growing up, nobody talked about introverts and extroverts. There were the kids who were bald and cheeky, the ones who got the other kids to do things their way. Then, there were the kids who followed. The ones that would play by themselves just as fine and happy as how they would play would others. The loud ones and the quiet ones. The ones who would leave their mother’s side and the ones who would get pushed into things they didn’t really care for.

I was mostly part of the second crowd. I had friends, but I don’t really remember how I became friends with them. As an adult, I still find it surprising how people make friends so easily. I try to analyze their behavior, like when a new person gets hired where I work. Now, I kind of know and have decided it is not worth the effort.

As an adult, though, I don’t care that much for new human interaction. After I have accepted myself as an introvert, I have also made the decision of limiting my socializing to my liking: the friends I already have, the people I find interesting and the conversations I care about. The rest, I ignore. I find it leads to a much happy life. But back to childhood.

I had friends and I loved playing. I also loved being by myself. I never really got bored, as I always kept myself distracted with my imagination. I remember I would think of myself as an extra character in the cartoons I was watching. I had adventures with Scooby Doo, the Flintstones, Tom and Jerry and the whole crowd on 90s kids TV. It was fun.

I was also a really quiet kid. I’m a quiet adult. First of all, because I hate speaking over other people (and most people don’t really stop talking). Mostly because I like to listen to stories. If you’ve got a good one, I’m your girl. I enjoy gossip, I’ll be the first one to acknowledge it. Lastly, because I don’t care if other people know what I’m thinking. I don’t want to share my thoughts or opinions, my personal life or my values. Not with everyone.

That is not what kids are told. Or it wasn’t what I was told. You should speak up, don’t let others shadow you. I never really cared if others shadowed me. I didn’t want and never wanted to be the center of attention. My first teacher would complain about the fact that I was too good, too quiet (isn’t that a teacher’s dream?).

I was told so often that I was shy that I started to believe it. I wasn’t shy, I just didn’t talk much. I was forced to socialize when I didn’t want to and berated for the fact that I spent too much time inside the house, by myself. As a preteen I spent most of my time off watching MTV and VH1. I could find better relatable people on TV than in real life.

Eventually, when I got to highschool I got a social life. You know how every introvert has an extrovert to hold their hand into the world. I had several. One would say I got out of my shell. I just found a formula I was comfortable with, that’s all. And I actually wanted to get out into the world. I still had my alone times, but I liked partying as well. I was all sort of confusing, until I found out you can be both an introvert and an extrovert. Wow, what do you think?

As an adult I embrace myself with all my being. I’m awesome. Although I am still fighting some childhood insecurities every time someone asks me why I don’t talk, I don’t feel as ashamed about it as I used to.

See, when you criticize your child for being who they are, they will grow up thinking something is wrong with them. As hard as they try, they cannot fix who they. You can’t fix something that’s not broken. Asking children ‘why are you like this?’ is even worse. How can you explain that this is who you are to an adult who obviously doesn’t get it (if they would, they wouldn’t ask). Growing up with the stigma of being the odd kid out was made even worse by the fact that I was singled out by adults, not really by children. Kids accepted my quiet nature and made me one of them. The adults, they wanted to change me, create me by the recipe of how a human being should be.

It’s too late for my generation. We’re already old enough to accept ourselves or go to therapy. It’s not too late, though, for those becoming parents. Do you believe there’s something wrong with your child? There, most probably, isn’t. They are just different.

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Molly Smith

Written by

Founder & Storyteller at June Chronicles www.junechronicles.com

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