I am an introvert/extrovert. For those who do not know this type of personality, it goes something like this: I need my quiet space to work without disturbance. I need quiet areas to refresh my mind and energy. I also need calm relationships, void of chaos and drama.
However, when called upon to be in public or with family others often perceive me as an extrovert because I do not demonstrate actual introvert characteristics. I appear always to be bubbly and friendly. I start conversations and participate in collaboration well.
I do believe I am a real introvert who has to mastered extroverted traits to survive in a world where introverts are misunderstood.
All in all, I live for quiet, tranquil, peaceful moments, spaces, and relationships.
I am no drawn to drama. I try to avoid the type of relationships that are continually living in turbulence.
Same with my working spaces. I need a sanctuary that is peaceful and lacking distractions to produce my best work. I cannot write or even think of writing in a coffee shop. I do not gain energy from a situation such as that; I often feel depleted.
Most authors that I have met are similar to me. They need quiet locations & often peaceful relationships to develop and bring forward the characters they are creating.
I know myself well, but others misunderstand me. Others perceive my deep need to protect the quiet, tranquil life I now live, as off-putting. Labeled as aloof, uninvolved and self-absorbed others do not push through to see the true me. Some have even given up on me; they no longer invite me to events because I often will say no.
That hardest perception that is true is that I am one who has no problem cutting someone out of her life. My energy levels cannot keep up with drama and chaos. If I am being challenged to participate in such behavior, I will shut down and take a long emotional walk away from the situation---which often results in me not returning.
I am aloof at times, not on purpose, but mainly because I have to disconnect from the energy around me of others that I feel is drowning me.
I can appear uninvolved, mainly because to be involved requires an amount of energy that does not balance but takes.
I will not get many invites to parties because I may not go to them all. Constant activity, meeting new people, loud music freaks me out. I cannot recover at a party quickly. My anxiety rises, and I feel the fight or flight reaction. All of which I have been known to do in large crowds.
I write all of this in a hopes to help those who do not struggle with this need for quiet. Many are happy in chaos, love activity, and can dance the dance with others well.
I hope that when we bump into one another, no matter if it is in my quiet sanctuary or your big dance floor—we can appreciate the gift of one another and not allow our perception to rob us of the meeting.
Do you need to be on the dance floor or in your quiet sanctuary to be creative?