“You’re really quiet.”
“Quiet”. That dreaded word that’s used over and over again to describe introverts like me. It’s usually stated in a tone somewhere between wonderment and disdain. “Why are you so quiet? Don’t you have things to say?”
I do have things to say. My mind is a rather loud place, thoughts after thoughts, puzzlements after puzzlements. But I don’t feel the need to give voice to everything. Yet somehow that’s seen as wrong. As abnormal. Am I abnormal? I certainly don’t think so. But that word, “Quiet”. It makes me wonder.
And the times it hurts the most to be categorized into a singular word, “Quiet”, is when I think I’m being anything but “Quiet”. Those days where I think I’m being rather loud. Those days where I actually feel ready to volunteer an answer in class. Those days I make small talk and hang out with groups of people when I want nothing more than to go back to my room and be alone. So I can finally be “Quiet”.
But the thing is, introverts are never really “Quiet”. Though we may not be constantly speaking, we are constantly thinking. Our minds are always at work, never resting. And when you place that label on us, that “Quiet”, that word that somehow carries with it a sense of wrongness, our minds turn to wonder. Wondering what’s wrong with us. Wondering why we don’t talk more. Wondering why no one seems to notice when we voice our thoughts aloud. Wondering, wondering, wondering.
It takes a lot for me to feel like I should share my thoughts in class. There’s always an internal struggle of sorts. I have to collect my thoughts, arrange them into a well thought out sentence, and then give voice to them. But when I do finally speak, and my thoughts are heard and acknowledged, I’m proud. Proud that I was able to climb that obstacle of a simple thought being voiced for more than myself to hear.
But then I’m once again told I’m “Quiet”.
Then there are the days I feel like I’m giving more than my usual input in a group discussion. Where usually I retreat into my thoughts around relatively large groups of acquaintances and friends, I’ve finally found the energy to speak. To once again voice some of the hundreds of thoughts that flit through my head.
But it’s still not enough for some. There are still those who ask why I am so “Quiet”.
There are so many other situations in which introverts wage internal battles with themselves to speak. We may only say a few lines, but inside our heads it took so much just to get us to that point. We found the energy to share in situations where it’s so much more comfortable for us to stay silent.
Yet we are still categorized by that singular word. That seems to be all anyone notices.
When doing interviews, it feels as though I cannot let my introverted qualities show. When making friends I’m worried that they’ll soon notice that I’m “Quiet”. But introverts have so many good qualities. We can be creative. We have in-depth insights, because our minds our constantly at work. We notice things in situations others sometimes overlook. We’re observant. We’re assets. Yet we are always overshadowed. Overshadowed by a word that seems to always carry negative connotations. Overshadowed by “Quiet”.
But we are more than just “Quiet”. There is more to notice about us than “Quiet”. Because not constantly giving voice to our thoughts should not be seen as strange. That’s just who we are.
“You’re really quiet.”
No, I’m a lot of things. “Quiet” is not my descriptor.