There's an Extrovert in Here Somewhere...

Senior yearbook.
Shyest.
Yeah. They didn't know
me very well. :)

Once upon a time, between the ages of about three and ten, I was quiet and timid and known, if people noticed me at all, for being really shy. I still give people the impression (correctly, to some extent) of being reserved when they first meet me. That's because I am being "reserved"; I'm "reserving" all my cheek until they've had a chance to get to know me. I think it's unfair to unload the snark upon someone the first time I meet them.

Once people do get to know me, they tend to forget that they ever thought I was quiet and have a hard time believing that in our "most likely" poll when I was a senior, I was voted shyest in my class. And since I can't invite you all over to my apartment to examine my yearbook, I risked the ire of the yearbook sponsor and a potential legal action and whatever else to scan the picture for proof.

However. A shred of my introverted past remains with me, however much I try to fight against it. And it's this: I don't like going out and doing things.

And by "going out" I don't mean bars or the theatre or things like that necessarily; I mean going to a friend's house. Or an event with people I know. That sort of thing. I'm perfectly content, most of the time, to stay home and maintain my blog or Facebook or email as my contact with the outside world. It prevents sensory overload.

There have been times when I've been determined to fight against this tendency in myself. I'll go out and do things and have fun and after a few days, I'm completely exhausted. So I have to pace myself.

A couple of weeks ago, Chad and I went to the local NaNoWriMo wrap-up. We planned it, I RSVP'ed, we were looking forward to it... but in the couple of hours before we had to leave, every part of me was fighting to talk myself out of going and stay home. I didn't mention this to Chad, who proceeded as if were were leaving-- and leave we did. And we had a great time. And the Austin NaNo-ers are brilliant, as we already knew.

And a couple of days later, I volunteered to do some pre-race bag stuffing for the swag at a local race. Again, I had planned ahead, knew I was going, and my brain kept screaming at me to stay home. You know what happened? I went, I worked, I met some really fun people, and I was glad to have gone.

During finals week, the Rhetoric department had a "study break" for the Rhetoric majors. I wasn't feeling well that day, but I dragged myself out of the house and across town to campus. I got to the room, peeked in-- and saw no one that I know. So, I kept walking, all the way back outside, where I decided that I hadn't come all the way to campus just to go back home again. I went in, had a couple of cookies, and a really productive conversation with a rhetoric instructor who it has not yet been my privilege to meet officially. And I left feeling about 200x better than I had been before I arrived.

This extrovert. I need her. Pretending to be happy to be at an event when I'd rather be home drinking tea and watching Letterman is probably my only acting skill. It's one I'm happy to have, in a "fake it 'till you make it" kind of way. But I'm tired of faking it. I'd like to arrive now in a place where my brain can be content, in advance of going somewhere, to know that it's going to be fun. It's like there's a wire loose, or something.

Are there any other closet introverts out there? Closet extroverts? When are you in a situation that you have to act in the opposite way you feel?