On Being an Introvert

When I was younger, I wanted to be an actress. Not just any actress, but basically the most dramatic actress that ever lived. I would always come up with scripts in drama class and they were never lighthearted; I was always in a prison (I gave myself the lead role, naturally) or being visited by my dead husband etc. I got good grades, but my drama teacher always commented: you know, you could act as someone normal. I wasn't interested in normal though; I was interested in  tragically sad, in being "deep". 

Which made me pretentious but also not very talented. To be a great actor you have to be a great observer of people; but you also have to be very self-confident to believe that you can mimic or create the mannerisms that create a believable character. It is actually much harder to naturally act out the more mundane, everyday activities than it is to do something more dramatic. It's hard to just be natural on camera or the stage. The reason I always wanted to play someone so far removed from who I was, or what my experiences were, is because I have no desire to be the center of attention.  

I am quiet, not volume-wise but as in I don't talk unless I have something I  really want to say. (Side note: a mother of a boy I dated once told me that "it's much sexier when you talk softer" which kind of made me want to scream everything.) I am an introvert. Culturally, being an introvert has very negative connotations. We respect and admire out-going, center of attention, take charge people. Quieter people are overlooked as  uninteresting. We ignore the fact that the labels "introvert" and "extrovert" have to do with energy (i.e. introverts draw their energy from being alone; extroverts from being around people) and instead define them as "boring" and "interesting".

And even though I know that being an introvert isn't a bad thing, I don't always believe it. 

Recently, a friend who is in film school asked me to act in his short film. I like helping people do creative things, so I agreed.  I'd also modeled for a Bonnie & Clyde shoot he did before, and the photo's came out looking absolutely nothing like how I normally do (in a good way!) so I was excited to be a part of the film: 

The first weekend we filmed, it was just the two directors (one of them being my friend) and one other actor. The movie was silent, and all that was required of me was to frolic on the beach and look adoringly at the camera and the man who was supposed to be the love of my life. While it was a little awkward, as I'd just met him, I wasn't that uncomfortable. Mostly it was fun.  I forgot that I don't like being the center of attention and started dreaming of Oscars again.

Then came the second part of the shoot. This was going to be indoors and I was only required for one more scene; I wasn't that worried about it. I arrived at the studio, and there were maybe 5000 people in there and lights and smoke everywhere; basically an introverts nightmare. It was the kind of center-of-attention situation that terrifies me.

I felt too awkward and out of my element to make conversation with anyone, so when it was time for me to go infront of the camera, I was super want-to-hide-in-a-dark-room uncomfortable. All I had to do was lean against a door frame and smile gently while I stared at the love of my life, as the camera came in for a close up. Except I couldn't get my face to smile. Like, not happening. My face contorted into that weird grimace thing that I do when I'm trying to humor someone annoying — definitely not when I'm in love.

I hated being an introvert that day. I felt inadequate; I wished I was someone else.

There have been lots of significant moments in my life when I've felt like this. I feel it sometimes in class, when my professors use the term "anti-social" when what they mean is introvert; and I felt it when someone (who was once) very important to me said: "you're a cool girl, but nobody knows it because you make no effort to talk to people". Moments like that make me doubt the things I do like about myself because I'm so aware of what I lack.

But there is a happy ending, friends. The day after the shoot, I went to a coffee shop to write and an older man struck up a conversation with me. It was one of those chance meetings where you skip all the introductory small talk and delve into conversation that matters. He commented that I was the most active-listener he'd ever met, and I felt affirmed. The weight of the previous day lifted from me.

And then, just yesterday, I read about the complexity of each of us in my book of Tao mediation. I won't quote the entire thing, but here's what spoke to me:

"We should not deny any part of ourselves. We should arrange them. All elements are valid - they must simply be placed in the right context." 

So being an introvert? It's only part of who I am, and not a bad part either. In some situations, that part doesn't thrive. But as a writer? Being an introvert is awesome. I'm a listener; I'm also an observer. I understand people because I listen to what they have to say, and, one day, I will be a good writer because I've paid close attention to the world around me. I've allowed a lot of other things to be the center of attention, and I'm glad because I'm going to use those observations to create worlds that other people can lose themselves in.

There is a lot of freedom in accepting who you are, but also in learning how to channel your talents, your energy, into the areas which best express all the parts of you best. I feel re-energized this week AND I thought of an idea for a book :)

P.S Cassie and Hanna started  a really great series (complete with badges!) on being an introvert which you should check out