On Being Quiet

I like working in solitude. It wasn’t until I read the book Quite by Susan Cain that I have began to really understand myself. At school I’m always searching for a nook or cranny where I can spread out my papers and books away from other people and just be left alone. It’s the introvert in me—it’s me. And I’m okay with that. I don’t get a lot of work done where there are lots of people. I had my worst year academically when I lived with four other girls in an apartment on campus—NEVER AGAIN! I told my mom this summer that I can’t live with people anymore unless they are my parents (because they respect my need for space and quite) and, I suppose, my future husband—who ever the poor soul will be (whoever he is he better be okay with space and quiet, too! haha).

Perhaps this is just a phase, but I really don’t think so. I was like this as a child, also. I just didn’t notice it as much because I wasn’t around a lot of people (I was homeschooled) to see the contrast.

When I came to college I knew nothing of who I really was. It truly has been in college that I grew up.

I couldn't find a photo from my first year
at Southern; this was taken my second year.
But only a few months after my story
took place. I was 18 here and on a class trip
to New England—hence the reason I'm
posing by a map of Vermont . . . haha.

When I arrived at Southern I was an awkward 17-year-old with buckteeth, glasses, long hair, and a wardrobe full of skirts and collared shirts (the dress code of my summer job). I felt weird and probably looked weird as well. My goal was to appear cool and I thought I needed to be more outgoing to get there. I can still remember what is probably the single most defining moment that kicked-off my forced conversion to extrovert-ism. It was a bright July morning in 2008. I stood on the porch of Miller Hall, the language building at Southern, waiting for English 101 to begin. I was either the first or second one there (nerd status—and yes I made an ‘A’ in that class) when a guy walked up. He looked interesting and I thought I should say ‘hi.’ But I didn’t. I was too shy. While I was contemplating whether I could still say ‘hi’ another girl walked up and enthusiastically greeted him. That was it. If I said ‘hi’ afterward it would look like I was copying her especially since I’d been there long before she arrived.

I felt like I’d been rude and missed a great opportunity to get to know someone else—someone who looked like an awesome person to know. They ended up sitting next to each other in class and I sat with this other guy who never acknowledged he knew me after that summer session.

A lot of time in college was spent trying to reinvent myself into that girl. Oddly enough she and I became really good friends and still are to this day. What I didn’t understand then was that she naturally was an extrovert while I was (and am) naturally an introvert. And that’s okay. I have strengths that she doesn’t have in my moments of silence just as she has the power to light up a room with her energy—honestly, I don’t want that kind of social pressure on me. The funny thing is, that guy who I wanted to say ‘hi’ to is a good friend of mine today, and he has been all through college. Not saying ‘hi’ to him on that first day of class didn’t affect anything.