If, before I had departed the United States for South Korea, I had encountered a future version of myself in a phonebooth with George Carlin, telling me I'd spend the bulk of my weekends out in bars and clubs in the party district of Seoul, I'd have laughed uproariously. Uproariously, I say, even knowing full well that time-traveling prophets (especially ones that are you) should always be taken very, very seriously. Me? Out clubbing? Preposterous.
But yet, after four months in Korea, I've noticed a curious divide in myself. Under normal circumstances—which is to say, back home in the US—I was content to be by off by myself, doing my own thing. But now, some new, alien part of me looks forward to the weekend and the prospect of drinking and dancing and being with people. Even now, I'm typing this up when I should be getting ready to catch the subway into Seoul, where I'll spend the night at a friend's place, and from whence we'll depart for one of the biggest tourist events in South Korea.
It's funny that I'm willing to admit that I want to go out at all, when pretty much every "introverts" community on the Internet relishes its role as the wilting wallflower. Things can turn into a virtual pissing game of sorts, with people secretly trying to out-do each other as the most reclusive; the one who hates parties and crowds and people the most. (This is also related to the fact that extraverts are, among introverted communities, considered inferior or somehow dumber.)
But the key word in my earlier statement is part: another part still dreads how exhausted I'll inevitably feel afterward—even if I come out of the weekend with my dignity intact and another story to add to my repertoire. It's a weird sort of schizophrenia, the dance between the introverted desire to be alone and the extroverted desire to go out and have fun with people. And sometimes, what I say and how I act is so totally alien to me that afterward even I don't understand why I did what I did. I'm pretty much a stranger in my own head.
I think introverts shun that part of their desire—the desire to occasionally be with people and enjoy the company of a living, breathing person—and come out the worse for wear. They don't seem to get beyond forming communities of themselves, which are almost always fueled by intense, soul-searching discussion; while spontaneous and/or mindless fun and general silliness isn't exactly taboo, it's certainly not the norm—despite the fact that everyone gets silly at least once in a while.
So I pose a question to the introverts, borrowing from The Dark Knight as employed by /b/tards and all other kinds of netizens:
Y SO SRS?
Thursday, July 16, 2009
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ReplyDelete1. I'm too verbose on the internet
2. I love having a fellow INFJ on here
As someone who often hangs out in a small, mixed group of intro- and extroverts, I think our relationships become richer when we embrace our differences. I often feel like Charlie the Unicorn with my extrovert friends (and husband, ha), but that's become part of the fun for me, part of the fabric of our relationships with each other.
Interestingly enough, during our requisite pre-marriage counseling one of the first questions the pastor asked us was "do you know what your Meyers Briggs types are?" She went on to tell us how important it was for us to be conscious of each others' needs as an E and an I. And it's true.
At this point I feel like I have a higher appreciation for myself and others because both types factor very heavily in my life. I appreciate introverts for allowing me to be silent and develop a quiet understanding with them, but my extroverted friends quite lovingly challenge me to do things I may not have chosen otherwise. They are more youthful and carefree and silly, and on the rare times when I can let myself fall into that, I feel a little lighter, too. After all, life can't be all drama and catharsis and intense discussions, right? Right???
Oh, totally. And I probably paint said introvert communities in too broad a brush—never mind the fact that part of the reason that discussion there is always so "srs bzness" is because we all probably have outlets for the silly, social-bonding stuff elsewhere.
ReplyDeleteA really interesting book on the importance of the social-bonding level of communication (ie, smalltalk) is "Language in Thought and Action" by S. I. Hayakawa. For someone as socially challenged as I can be, it put stuff like "small talk" in an entirely different and infinitely more useful context.
As a (likely overbearing) extrovert, I have a hard time understanding the desire to create a true inner space. Though I am as happy to stay at home as to go to a dance club, I always desire a companion.
ReplyDeleteI see your introversion as opposing my neediness -- as your lonely strength countering my inability to function in a vacuum (heroes vs. damsels?).
My introverted husband-to-be is a real issue to me: I feel shut out by his need to retreat, to be alone. Every evening he spends alone is a triumph in my ability to do things by myself.
Here's my question: how does an extrovert know when to intrude on your introversion? Do you always resist our attempts to pull you out? Or is there a time (or a signal, please!) when we can enter your zone?
I've been chewing on this question all day but don't feel like I've come to a satisfactory conclusion.
ReplyDeleteIn short, I'm grateful that I've got extroverted friends/lovers to draw me out. However, that doesn't negate my need to retreat from time to time, especially when I've been out in the world a lot. Being out of the house, with people, etc., for a long period of time is exhausting. I often need time to decompress afterward. Also, keeping to myself is how I recharge.
I think it's important to come to an understanding and know when your partner is legitimately communicating needs to you and when they could benefit from a little loving encouragement. So I guess it's all about communication. In addition to being in one, I know a good handful of people in I/E relationships and I think it's wonderful. However, it does take a little more consideration to remember and acknowledge that important difference -- neither of you will understand how the other gathers their energy, but that's okay.
Firefox really doesn't want me to post this reply! But I'm going to go ahead anyway.
ReplyDeleteA good way to tell if I want you in my space (literally and figuratively) is if I ask. The most draining part of social interaction, for me, is feeling like I'm somehow performing a role or wearing a mask, instead of being myself. That's why I usually prefer just being by myself.
However, if I find other people around whom I feel I can let my guard down and just be me, I'll definitely want to spend time with them and will suddenly turn almost extraverted about it: asking them to do stuff with me, talking a lot, etc. There are some people with whom this comfort is a constant thing (my equally-introverted boyfriend, a few close friends, a new friend I've found here in Korea), and other people with whom it's a fluid thing where there are variables that mean I might feel okay around them one day and not so much the next. Either way, I will usually be proactive in communicating my desire for companionship.
I quote now a very helpful metaphor from Isabel Myers' (of MBTI fame) book Gifts Differing on the I/E difference:
A good way to visualize the difference [between one's primary function being introverted or extraverted] is to think of the dominant process as the General and the auxiliary process as his Aide. In the case of the extravert, the General is always out in the open. Other people meet him immediately and do their business directly with him. They can get the official viewpoint on anything at any time. The Aide stands respectfully in the background or disappears inside the tent. The introvert's General is inside the tent, working on matters of top priority. The Aide is outside fending off interruptions, or, if he is inside helping the General, he comes out to see what is wanted. It is the Aide whom others meet and with whom they do their business. Only when the business is very important (or the friendship is very close) do others get in to see the General himself.
If people do not realize that there is a General in the tent who far outranks the Aide that they have met, they may easily assume that the Aide is in sole charge. This is a regrettable mistake. It leads not only to an underestimation of the introvert's abilities but also to an incomplete understanding of his wishes, plans, and point of view. The only source for such inside information is the General.
Though while the General process works internally and introvertedly, it still wants companionship from time to time. (The Aide, being the one out and about in the world, doesn't really suffer from being alone.) I mentioned a while ago in my own private blog that I felt like my Aide had plenty of friends, but that my General was still rather lonely. Thanks to the miracle of the Internet (which is to say, OkCupid), I've finally found someone to bridge that gap. Nonetheless, I still need time to myself to digest what just happened and figure out how I feel about it.
Also, a lot of my socializing with my boyfriend or best friend (both introverts) involves occupying the same space, but just doing our own thing. I've spent countless hours by the family pool with Tesia, both of us just reading and maybe drinking a cocktail. Sometimes the boy and I will game together; sometimes he games and I read a book or write (or vice versa). That way, if one of us feels like talking or conversing, there's someone available. That might be another difference between I and E: for me, just having one person around (assuming they're the "right kind" of person) is enough for me to feel socialized. But maybe Es find that to be still too isolating? Like I'm fine at a bar or restaurant with just one friend, but an extrovert might want a whole crowd of people.
Wow that was long and rambly, but hopefully you found something of worth in there!