I’ve always thought of myself as an introvert. I hate small talk and networking. I never remember people’s names. When entering a large gathering my default behavior is always to down an alcoholic beverage before wading into the crowd. I enjoy solitary pursuits: writing, gardening, cooking, crafts, hiking. Every personality test I’ve ever taken brands me an introvert. My Myer-Briggs personality type is the rare INFP, and because of that, a column called “Introvert Dear” appears on my email feed. Lately, I’ve received a series of articles on how I’ve probably secretly liked our year plus of quarantine, and how difficult it will be to re-integrate into an open society.
What a bunch of baloney!
Thing is, I may be an introvert but I love people. My quarantine experience has driven this home. In one important way I have been lucky. I like solitary pursuits but in conjunction with other people, everyone doing their creative projects separately but in close proximity, getting together for meals, walks, the evening. Fortunately my husband and I have done just that. Also, we have maintained a family bubble, seeing family members “not in our household” on a regular basis. I cannot imagine how desperately lonely it has been for people who live alone or who followed the “expert” advice to isolate from their family members. In other ways the enforced isolation of the past year has been very painful.
I might not like to chat up everyone at a party but I love to host them. I love when a party is up and running, everyone eating and drinking and interacting, listening to the buzz. I like loud and crazy family gatherings, and surprise guests. I may not love small talk but I miss the minor interactions that bespeak community: chatting with neighbors, with everyone at the yoga studio. I miss the energy of large crowds with a shared focus, people smiling, sharing a bond that is evident whether you know each other or not. I miss live music with a tangible hunger. I like the buzz of a busy city street at night. I like to smile at people I pass on the sidewalk. I like spontaneity and freedom and surprise interactions. Every time someone pulls up their mask as they near me, every time we do a social distancing dance darting away from each other, I feel a twinge in my stomach. I feel lessened, somehow. It’s a constant hum of stress that eats at my soul. I have found that when I do get in a conversation with someone, it’s hard to stop. The words keep pouring out.
Slowly, slowly the constraints are loosening, and I feel no discomfort whatsoever. INFJ or not, untie the ropes and I’m out and running.
wendy's opinion on just about everything 