introverts and extroverts
“Anne, this is my friend Mrs. Baker.”
“Anne, this is my friend Mrs. Baker.”
“ANNE, this is my friend MRS. BAKER.”
My mom was trying to get me to say, “Hello, Mrs. Baker, how are you?” but my six-year-old self just couldn’t do it. First, I was introverted and hated talking to strangers (and a good many nonstrangers). Second, I thought that was a dumb thing for a kid to say. I didn’t know any other six-year-olds who talked like that.
I was a good girl, the kind who never got in trouble—except for in moments like these.
My mother didn’t understand my reserve, and we battled over these sorts of introductions for years. In hindsight, our dynamic makes sense. My mom is an extrovert to the core, a vivacious people person, the sort who’s never met a stranger. She loves being out in the world; she’s always loved meeting new people and making new connections. She revels in introducing her husband, friend, or daughter to her third-grade teacher’s mother’s next-door neighbor. Or her best friend’s little brother’s mail carrier.
“What a delightful small world it is!” she’d often say to me.
Mom couldn’t imagine that not everyone thought it was a delight and a joy to chatter for hours about anything at all with friends, acquaintances, and strangers and that I wouldn’t likewise enjoy meeting them and learning all about their personal histories. It never occurred to her that her introverted daughter didn’t enjoy being constantly on the go, meeting new people and connecting with old ones.
My mom thought I was being cheeky, tapping into my latent rebellious side. She was baffled by the outright refusal of her otherwise obedient daughter to cooperate on this one point. She didn’t understand until many years later that I was an introverted kid, reacting exactly as you’d expect an introvert of any age to react when forced into such a situation. It was as though I was right-handed and she was asking me to write with my left. I couldn’t do it. Nor did I want to.
What You Need to Know about Introverts and Extroverts
What both my mom and I know now that we didn’t understand then is that introverts and extroverts are prone to misunderstanding one another. Introverts are often thought to be shy, and they may battle the perception that they dislike people or company or that they’re grouchy or social misfits. Extroverts, however, battle the perception that they’re flighty or shallow or relentlessly happy. People tend to assume extroverts are bad listeners, hate being alone, and are irrationally “needy” for the company of others.
To truly understand introversion and extroversion, we need to cut through the misconceptions and grasp what these terms really mean.
Grammar geek alert: introvert and extrovert are verbs as well as nouns (although, to get even geekier, the verb form is actually extravert). And to further complicate matters, Carl Jung spelled his noun “extravert,” but the modern spelling is more often “extrovert.” You will see the words spelled both ways throughout this book, depending on the context.
The North and South of Temperament
Even though Carl Jung first introduced the terms introvert and extravert back in 1921 (in his now-classic volume Psychological Types), the concepts—especially introversion—crashed into the public’s consciousness in 2012 with the publication of Susan Cain’s Quiet, which greatly increased awareness of “the power of introverts in a world that can’t stop talking.”1
Cain succinctly defines introverts as “people who prefer quieter, more minimally stimulating environments,” compared to extroverts, who seek out—and even thrive on—noise and stimulation.2 Introverts are fundamentally attuned to what happens within, while extroverts focus externally on the world around them.3 Both types naturally want to spend more time in the “real world” but disagree on which that is—the external world of experience or the inner world of thought.
Researchers generally agree that introverts and extroverts are born, not made. While one’s tendency may shift over time (people tend to become more introverted as they get older),4 they don’t choose to be one type or the other. Studies estimate that one-third to one-half of us fall on the introverted end of the spectrum.5 Men are ever so slightly more likely to be introverted than women.6
As far as personality distinctions go, introversion versus extroversion is an important one. Scientist J. D. Higley calls introversion and extroversion (or, as he phrases it, “inhibition and boldness”) “the north and south of temperament.”7 These traits affect the very core of who we are.
Understanding the Differences
While we all need to spend time introverting and extraverting (yes, these are appropriate verbs), our innate preference is reflected in our brain chemistries. If you’re an introvert and you’ve ever had a baffling conversation with your extroverted roommate and thought, My brain just doesn’t work like that, you’re absolutely right. Your brain doesn’t work like that.
Introverts and extroverts are literally wired differently. Scientists have discovered measurable physiological differences between the two groups that affect everything from how quickly they think on their feet to how their bodies react to caffeine.8
Extroverts think faster than introverts, processing information in less time. Extroverts can pull this off because information travels a shorter pathway through their brains. The pathway is shorter because that information bypasses parts of the brain that introverts rely on more heavily. A shorter pathway equals faster processing time, and this faster processing time accounts for many of the observable differences between the two types.
The nervous systems of extroverts and introverts also function differently from each other. Introverts prefer the sympathetic side of the nervous system, the side responsible for the “rest and digest” mode. Extroverts more frequently use the parasympathetic side of the nervous system, the side responsible for the “fight-or-flight” response. Unsurprisingly, this results in different behaviors.
Introverts and extroverts are quite different when it comes to risk-taking. Extroverts are more responsive to dopamine than introverts, which means they’re more likely to take big risks and enjoy doing it. They crave stimulation, whether that comes in the form of lights and sound or social interaction. But introverts, quite literally, prefer the quiet. They tend to have a more developed prefrontal cortex, the area of the brain responsible for abstract thought and decision-making.
Morning rituals for introverts versus extroverts can look very different too. We’re talking about coffee, of course. The caffeine in a cup of joe is a boon to extroverts and often a burden to their quieter counterparts. Research shows that caffeine boosts extroverts’ performance but hinders introverts’ productivity. Introverts simply don’t need the additional stimulation caffeine delivers.9
Extroverts and introverts are truly different on a physiological level, and those differences play out in real life. Introverts, with their preference for the inner world, need regular periods of quiet alone time to feel like their best selves (ideally) or a functional human being (realistically). For many introverts, that means a solitary walk, a long run, or some time with a good book. They need regular retreats into their own inner worlds to stay healthy, happy, and sane.
Extroverts are the opposite: they adore stimulation. Without it, they feel just as drained and exhausted as an introvert who is forced to talk all day long. These are the people who organize raucous Saturday paintball games or margarita night for twenty. Extroverts build lots of social interaction into the rhythm of their lives, often without even thinking about it. Instead of quiet, they need energetic conversation. Instead of enjoying a solitary walk, they need to take a break in a crowded park. When they’re feeling tired, they need to phone a friend.
The introversion/extroversion divide affects everything from a person’s risk tolerance to their patience level to their conflict management style to whether they’d talk about their recent bikini wax in mixed company. Your dad who researches every Honda for sale in five states before making his purchase? Probably an introvert. Your friend who loves roller coasters? Probably an extrovert. Your sister who spends ten minutes in the cereal aisle debating which box to buy? Probably an introvert. Your spouse who can’t stand to spend the weekend at home, relaxing—the one who wants to go do things? Probably an extrovert. Your child who takes forever to figure out what to say next, who has a crazy-long mental runway? Introvert.
While these differences may make it sound as though identifying your type would be easy, that’s not always the case.
What Makes Things Difficult
When confronted with descriptions of an introvert and an extrovert, many people find it easy to type themselves because they instinctively recognize which world is their real world: either the introvert’s inner world of ideas or the extrovert’s external world of action. They know if they prefer to turn inward or turn outward, if they prefer the quiet or the stimulating. Others, though, aren’t so sure about their type. They see characteristics of both in themselves, which makes it difficult to pick just one.
Relax—there’s no such thing as a pure introvert or a pure extrovert. Jung himself said no one person is all one type or the other: “Such a man would be in a lunatic asylum.”10
We all spend time introverting and extraverting; it’s part of being human. We spend time with our thoughts, in our own heads, and we spend time focusing on the external world around us. We don’t have to plan for this or think about it much; it happens automatically. In this sense, we are all ambiverts. But, according to Jung,11 we are all primarily oriented one way or the other. We can’t be both. We are fundamentally either focused outward or focused inward.
If you see both introvert and extrovert characteristics in yourself, how do you figure out which you are? It’s not always easy, because appearances can be deceiving. Let’s explore what you need to pay attention to in order to figure out your type.
Undercover Extroverts, and Introverts in Disguise
Extroverts don’t spend all their time extraverting, and introverts don’t always look like introverts. Here’s a case in point. A friend of mine spends many Friday nights out clubbing with her musician husband, dressed in tight pants and five-inch heels, rocking out to bands amid large, noisy crowds. To an outsider, that’s a decidedly extroverted pursuit. If she was trying to type herself, she could point to those Friday nights and say, “I couldn’t be an introvert—no way!”
But my friend calls those evenings out her “hobby,” not her “lifestyle.” She hits the noisy clubs because it’s important to someone she loves, and she’s learned to embrace the fun of it a couple nights a month. What you don’t see is my friend playing the homebody the rest of the weekend, reading books, making soup, and watching movies—embracing her more preferred brand of quiet. After spending a Friday night out in the external world with its people, lights, and sounds, she’s more than ready to retreat to her own “real world” of her thoughts.
I relate to this, as I can pass for an outgoing extrovert at the right kind of gathering. I’m often among the last to leave a party because once I get there I have such a good time; I truly love interesting conversation with interesting people. However, as much as I enjoy those kinds of events, I find them enormously draining. At the end of the night, I’m aching to return to my real world, my inner world of thought. I jokingly say I need two cups of tea and a hundred pages of a good novel to recover from a boisterous night out, but I’m really not kidding. After a night on the town, I need to recharge my battery—by myself.
However, my extroverted friend—the one who will close down the party with me—will go home and tell her husband all about her night out to prolong the evening, feeling high on life. If you had observed us at the party, you would have thought our temperaments appeared quite similar. But my extroverted friend doesn’t leave drained. She leaves energized from the rush of spending all night in her real world—the external world of people and conversation.
Or picture this: my extroverted author friend is currently racing to meet a deadline for her next novel. She usually prefers a packed social calendar but is in full-on monk mode, spending eleven hours a day locked in her office, just herself and her computer and her dog (but she kicks even him out if he starts distracting her). If you saw her at work, you would think there’s no way she could be an extrovert, but you would be wrong. She’s an extrovert spending an unusual amount of time introverting because her work demands it, and she’s decided it’s worth it. (Although, in her own words, “When it’s over, I’m going to party like it’s 1999—for a month.”)
Appearances can be deceiving, but your mental state, feelings, and sometimes even physical reactions will key you in to which is your real world, the external world “out there” or the internal world of your thoughts.
Putting This Information to Work in Your Own Life
We all have a preferred ratio of introverting to extraverting. The question to ask yourself is, Which do I do more of: introverting or extraverting? If you can answer that question, that’s terrific. If you can’t, take an assessment.12 Talk to a few friends about how they see you. And spend some time observing yourself and thinking through your behavior.
When you’re determining your type, it’s crucial to pay attention to how certain activities affect you, both in the moment and after the moment. The right questions to ask yourself include, How do I feel while I’m introverting and extraverting? Afterward, do I feel exhausted or energized?
Stacking the Deck in Your Favor
Once you understand yourself, you can stop fighting your natural tendencies and plan for them instead.
I’m a sociable introvert. I enjoy coffee dates and Christmas parties and weddings and neighborhood picnics. I love noisy family dinners and hosting playdates and chatting with other parents on the baseball sidelines. I get a little restless when I don’t get regular doses of social interaction. But when I get out of balance—when I spend too much time extraverting, according to my personal definition of “too much”—I am useless. When I ignore the warning signs and keep extraverting until I enter the Overtalked Introvert Danger Zone, I get totally overwhelmed and borderline rude and can barely string sentences together. I wish I were exaggerating.
This happened to me recently, and the memory is still fresh and painful. Not long ago, I spent a holiday weekend away from my family, holed up with a few fellow writers who were all facing imminent deadlines and needed focused time away to work.
I spent many hours that weekend by myself, just me and my work. But I also spent many enjoyable hours talking. Talking a lot. Many, many hours of talking. I was dangerously close to the Overtalked Introvert Danger Zone.
After four days away, spent talking and writing and talking some more, I was counting on the solo three-hour drive home to restore my equilibrium, because my family had dinner plans that night, plans I was really looking forward to. I wasn’t sure if it was wise to try to cram anything else into our holiday weekend, but I really wanted it to work. So, propelled by magical thinking, my husband and I scheduled a barbecue with good friends I was desperate to see.
I was so happy to be there, and it was so good to see everyone, but my brain refused to cooperate. If it had had the energy left to put together a coherent sentence, it would have said, “I refuse to cooperate until you take me home and let me read my hundred pages in peace.” I was drained. I was exhausted. And as much as I wanted to be there, I would have done everyone a favor if I’d just stayed home. Nobody likes to feel like they’re getting the leftovers, but that’s all I had to offer—and it was obvious.
Realizations that arise from these out-of-the-ordinary experiences change the way I approach my everyday life. I don’t live in an introverted paradise. I have a large family, and my house can get kind of rowdy. I’ve had to learn to carve out times of peace and quiet, to help my kids learn to (at least try) not talk to me when I’m reading, and to avoid talking on the phone when my mental and emotional batteries are in need of recharging. I’ve embraced the power of the long run and the short walk. I’ve become a big believer in a well-timed video for the kids so I can grab some downtime for myself. And I keep a close eye on the calendar to make sure my balance is right between introverting and extraverting, between noisy and quiet, between seeing friends and seeing nobody but myself.
Note that I keep saying my balance. We’re all different in this regard, and it’s up to you to figure out what your balance looks like.
Once you understand what you need, whether you’re an extrovert or an introvert, you can structure your days around what you need to thrive—or, at the very least, survive. Because, let’s be honest, some days that’s the best we can hope for.
Developing an Arsenal of Coping Strategies
Sometimes the balance of introverting and extraverting doesn’t fall exactly the way we want it to. Of course, we know it’s not always possible to get exactly what we need, exactly when we need it. A drained introvert can’t always escape to a quiet place for a little while. A drained extrovert won’t always have a friend (or stranger!) handy for the needed interaction of a lively chat. But that doesn’t mean all is lost.
When the world around you—whether on a macro level or in your small business or family—has norms that aren’t friendly to your type or you are in a situation that’s poorly situated to your temperament, it can be easy to go with the flow and deny yourself the things you need. Especially if you don’t even realize you need them. But if you can identify what you need and tweak the situation accordingly, maybe you can save yourself some pain and suffering.
My friend Ashley is an extrovert who homeschools her three children. She’s surrounded by people all day, which might at first blush sound like extrovert heaven. But after years of doing this, she realized that while she was talking all the time, she was starving for adult conversation. At first she felt helpless. Without quitting homeschooling, how much control did she really have over the situation? But over time, she started making little changes to better meet her needs as an extrovert.
For example, she joins a friend a few mornings a week to walk and talk. She sets a reminder to phone a friend every day after lunch to get her conversation fix. She deliberately goes to the grocery store during busy hours so she’ll bump into more people. (If you’re an introvert, you’re probably dying just reading that.) She keeps a steady schedule of coffee dates and girls’ nights out. These aren’t huge changes, but they have made a big difference in how Ashley feels about her life right now.
Another friend of mine is a talented seamstress. Kim owns a business, and due to the nature of her work, she spends large chunks of time alone designing products, making marketing plans, and fulfilling orders. This would be heaven—for an introvert. As an extrovert, Kim loves her work but craves human interaction, the bustle of activity, and seeing friends on a regular basis. Interestingly, Kim didn’t really struggle with meeting her extrovert needs until her family moved to my town. Here, they bought a house on a quiet cul-de-sac in the suburbs. Before the move, they lived on Main Street (really) in Small Town, USA. Kim’s sewing room faced a bustling street, and whenever she needed a people fix, all she had to do was wander outside.
Kim has learned over the years how to feed her extroverted nature while sticking with the work she loves. This means taking an exercise break with a buddy (we often catch up on each others’ news while logging a few miles) or working in a coffee shop so she’s at least around people for a while. It’s not the ideal situation for an extrovert. Sometimes Kim fantasizes about getting a “real job” again—the kind with an office and coworkers and a watercooler to gather around to talk about last night’s episode of whatever—but the perks of being her own boss are pretty great. So as long as she consciously meets her people quota every week, she finds it a workable compromise.
Tending to your nature will look different in different seasons and situations in your life, but the underlying principles remain the same. What is draining you? (Perhaps you’re exhausted because you’ve been with people all day.) What can you do to boost your odds of recharging on a regular basis? (Maybe you could drive home from work in total silence or put in a DVD for the kids and then go into your room and close the door.) Sometimes coming up with a workable solution is a real brain bender. But more often, it’s easy to take steps in the right direction—once you figure out what the right direction is.
It’s not just people who can be introverted or extroverted. I first encountered the idea that places can have their own personalities in Adam McHugh’s book Introverts in the Church,13 and, whoa, was it eye-opening. Adam explains that some places and organizations—such as the American evangelical churches that he focuses on in his book—slant toward extroversion. Generally speaking, evangelical churches in America have more extroverted qualities than introverted ones. This extroverted personality puts extroverts at ease but can make introverts feel a little overwhelmed—or worse, as though they don’t belong at all.
For years, my family attended a large nondenominational church with a decidedly extroverted feel. When we entered the sanctuary a few minutes before the Sunday morning service began, the place would be humming with conversation like a crowded cocktail party. Near the beginning of each service, we were instructed to greet all the people sitting around us by shaking hands and saying good morning. (A number of introverted friends have confessed to being chronically, strategically late to escape this expectation.) Congregants would routinely take the stage to share deeply personal stories in front of thousands of strangers. Members were encouraged to invite their neighbors into their homes for meals and Bible study. These things were much easier for the extroverts than for the introverts. “Extrovert bias” is a fancy way of saying a place caters to extroverts. According to Susan Cain, this is prevalent in many Western institutions, from churches to schools to corporations.14 I saw it in action every weekend at this large nondenominational church.
My family attended that church for many years, and understanding the personality factors at play made a big difference in my church experience while I was there. I’m introspective by nature and tend to spend a lot of time thinking (and sometimes definitely overthinking) through my experiences and feelings. When I feel uncomfortable in a situation, I notice and can’t help but think, What does this mean? Why am I feeling this way? I can’t tell you just how awful it is to get that uncomfortable feeling in church. I’m shuddering just thinking about it.
Understanding personality a little better took a lot of the pressure off those uncomfortable moments. Why did I always feel a little ill walking into a Sunday school class? It wasn’t a message from above; I felt ill because it was like being late to a party in full swing. (I learned to arrive a little earlier, before the class got crowded and loud.) Why did some of the testimonies make me queasy? Because I imagined what I would do if I were asked to share a deeply personal story in that setting, and introverts don’t generally like to share their deeply felt emotions with strangers. Why did the meet and greet make me want to run away? The explanation was simple: I was an introvert. This straightforward reason for why I felt the way I did was such a comfort.
A few years ago, my family was on the hunt for a new church home. High on our wish list was a church near our home and, ideally, one my kids were already somewhat familiar with, so we visited churches of many different denominations. I’ll never forget the Sunday I took them to an Episcopal church in our own neighborhood for the first time. We walked into the old building, and it was quiet. It wasn’t particularly crowded. Most of the people were older than my parents; there weren’t many kids in sight. The organ was playing classical music. We just have to make it through an hour, I thought. Over the course of that hour, we sang traditional hymns and recited traditional prayers and listened to a traditional sermon and passed the peace and participated in a rather lengthy Eucharist.
Surprise, surprise—my kids loved it. Well, at least the two introverts who were old enough to express an opinion did. “It’s so peaceful,” they said. “It’s so beautiful inside. It’s so quiet.” It took me a little while to realize that in their minds, quiet was a good thing.
Years later, my family still happily attends an Episcopal church with an introverted personality. We didn’t choose it for that reason alone. Many factors go into choosing a church (or a school or a job). But we paid close attention to the personalities of the churches we visited and asked ourselves, How do we see personality at play here? What would it mean for us to be a part of this place?
When You’re Feeling out of Your Comfort Zone
Some places have an extroverted flavor, and some have an introverted one. Yet I’m constantly surprised to see biases pop up in places I would have expected to be pretty neutral.
My oldest son is an ardent baseball fan and holds his own on the field. His coach last season awarded player positions based on how much “enthusiasm” his players showed. “Who wants to play shortstop? Jump up and down and make some noise!” he would yell. But my son is extremely introverted, and he preferred to show his enthusiasm through his work ethic, his conscientiousness, and the extra drills he completed on his own time. He didn’t scream and shout or jump up and down, so he didn’t get picked. He wasn’t playing as much as he should have based on his ability.
My husband and I realized what was going on, and we were able to talk about it with our son throughout the course of the season. We discussed what extroverts bring to the table, such as the ability to make their presence felt, as that coach knew well. As a group, extroverts are outspoken and outgoing. They think well on their feet and can handle—and even thrive on—social pressure. We wouldn’t want to live in a world without extroverts! Introverts bring many important qualities to the table too. However, those qualities are more easily overlooked or underappreciated in an extroverted culture.
As a parent, the thought of my kid being passed over because of his personality guts me, which was great motivation to open an ongoing conversation with him about what it means to advocate for yourself, whether you’re thirteen or thirty-seven. When is it worth speaking up, even if it feels uncomfortable? (Perhaps if the position of shortstop is on the line.) How can you make your performance stand out, even if you dread the spotlight? (Maybe by saying, “Hey, coach, I’ve been practicing hard. I hope you notice today.”)
We couldn’t change the coach’s bias (well, not without getting banned from the bleachers with the other parents who get too rowdy on the sidelines), but we could at least understand what was happening, explain it to our son, and help him adjust his behavior accordingly. It’s not a perfect solution, but it’s a move in the right direction.
Extrovert bias may be more common, but introvert bias is also a real thing. Some places definitely prefer the quieter types. I discovered a striking example of this last year when a friend surprised me with a story from her graduate school days, when she attended one of the country’s premier MFA programs. I was impressed by her accomplished pedigree and told her so. She’s a great writer, but she doesn’t write the kind of fiction that literature professors usually fawn over (at least not in class).
She confessed that I wasn’t wrong; she had definitely been a fish out of water back in grad school. She showed up at her very serious school and immediately set to doing what she does best—plan a good cocktail party. Her fellow students thought they’d spend their weekend nights reading—or, at the very most, discussing—novels, but she was determined to lure them to her apartment for drinks and food and chitchat.
When I imagine my friend at grad school, I picture her as Elle Woods, as played by Reese Witherspoon in the movie Legally Blonde, heading off to Harvard Law School with her fashion merchandising degree in hand. Elle Woods is five-foot-one, blonde, and, well, fictional, and my friend is five-foot-ten, brunette, and has an actual birth certificate, but they both had that outsider thing going on in their chosen educational institutions. Plus, they both rose to the top and had a great time at school.
The literati didn’t take my friend seriously at first; she was too bubbly to be talented, or something like that. She was greeted with pretty much the same reception that Elle got at Harvard (“What are you doing here?”), but in the end, she found a way to meet her extroverted needs in an introverted place—and land a publisher.
Tending to Your Relationships
Because we live in a world with many other people—people we work with, live with, and care about—we need to be not only smart about meeting our own needs but also gracious about their needs. It’s important to know our own personality types and what we need because of them, but we also have to learn to be flexible. Remember, the people we love and live with have needs too.
Take the holiday season, for example. I love getting together with my extended family, especially during this time of year. My husband and I take our four kids to my parents’ house, his parents’ house, and, if we’re lucky, my grandmother’s house as well. I wouldn’t miss any of these visits for the world.
However, as an introvert, the successive days of big family gatherings take their toll on me. As much as I love seeing everyone, the cumulative effect of these get-togethers is exhausting. If I’m not smart about managing my energy during this time of year, I’m not able to enjoy my visits with family. (Good books, hot tea, and Netflix can go a long way toward getting an introvert through the holiday season in one piece. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the big holiday shows often release on Thanksgiving and Christmas—the networks know we need a break from all that togetherness!)
Sometimes our wishes directly oppose those of our loved ones. One Friday night not too long ago, my husband returned home from a work trip to Seattle. He’s an introvert, like me, and he’d spent four straight days in meetings and at work dinners. When his flight landed, he wanted to drive straight home and spend the evening eating pizza and hanging out with his family in his pajamas. However, while he was out and about in Seattle, I’d been feeling cooped up at home. A good friend was hosting a family cookout the night he got home, and I was ready to go out!
In a situation like that, not everyone gets their first choice. Someone has to give. Our personalities don’t provide the answer to these decisions, but they can serve as useful guides. Personality is just one of many factors to consider, but it’s an important one.
Years ago, I probably would have just accepted his answer (in typical Enneagram type Nine style, which we’ll talk about in chapter 9), but I’ve learned enough about my personality to at least sometimes understand the reasons why I want to do certain things. I didn’t give up. Will and I talked it through and found out he had a slight preference for staying in. However, I felt strongly about going out. So we went. (Just last week I wanted to go someplace and he didn’t—notice a pattern here?—but that time he really wanted to stay home, and I didn’t feel nearly as strongly about it, so we skipped the thing.)
We are all different, even different in our expressions of introversion or extroversion. By understanding ourselves and how we might be different from others, we can better appreciate other people and the way they are wired. And with practice and experience, through trial and error, we’ll get better at making the right decisions for ourselves, as well as for the people around us.
A Different Kind of Normal
Now that I understand more about introversion and extroversion, I understand why my mom gets a big kick out of drawing connections between people. It’s her nature. She loves constant human interaction and bringing people together to talk, talk, talk in order to facilitate more of it. She’ll want to tell me that my new neighbor was married in 1989 to her old sorority sister’s cousin’s dentist’s dog walker or introduce me to her third-grade teacher’s daughter when we bump into them at the mall. I really don’t care, but I listen. Because while I may not care about her old sorority sister’s cousin’s dentist’s dog walker, I care about my mom. And these are the things that matter to her.
Understanding our personalities doesn’t eliminate the tension that results when people with different needs, motivations, and preferences come together or, especially, live together. But understanding things beneath the surface—why people act the way they act and prefer the things they prefer—helps us at least make sense of what’s going on. These people are not out to get us or trying to ruffle our feathers; they’re just different—a different kind of normal.