REAL INTROVERTS COME OUT

Somehow, when you become an adult, you must automatically turn into an extrovert by midnight or turn into a pumpkin. ...

Sometimes I wonder if I am an introvert because I hate being around people or because I truly like being alone. ...

I am NOT shy I am INTROVERTED -- Shaye Bomar

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SHAYE's STORY

SHAYE begins her story like this.

SHAYESPACE: Strawberries and Office Politics

Oh, how I wish I were Meryl Streep. At least, on the surface. I mean, how many people do you know who get a chance to do highly praised work that they love, gain the respect of their peers and even critics, and then after they’ve finished “working” they go home to live a life of quiet and enjoyable solitude AWAY from Hollywood ? And hey, if things get too tough at home, have enough money to jet off to a small, isolated shack in the mountains, far-far-away?

Maybe I should buy a lottery ticket.

Maybe I should get Oprah to adopt me.

I’m not Meryl Streep, nor am I an actress, God forbid. My name is Shaye Bomar and I have worked at and quit many jobs in my life, always knowing who I am and what my values are but never quite able to find a career that fits those quirks and values. And yes, I am an extreme INTJ: The Mastermind. How glorious!

So, if I am such a “Mastermind”, how come I haven’t figured this stuff out yet?

You’d think at 33 years old I would have made something of my life. Early on, I had the markings of becoming quite a success. I was a leader in school, made extremely good grades, and as clumsy and social awkward as I am even excelled at some sports. Kids, those that didn’t go out of their way to make my life miserable, looked up to me. Teachers adored me. They helped me get scholarships and wrote glowing recommendations stating they wish they had more students like me (I have the report cards to prove it). I had the world in my hand.

And then I grew up.

College was hell. Adult life has been worse. I have spent the last few years wondering what the hell happened to me and so I decided to do a little investigating.

Turns out, one of the reasons I think I was so successful as a secondary student was because I had complete autonomy and responsibility for my work and space to do it in. Most teachers and students accepted that I was a “nerd,” a “freak,” a “genius” and when those that mocked me was convinced that I would never respond to their low-minded behavior, they left me alone. Somehow, when you become an adult, you must automatically turn into an extrovert by midnight or turn into a pumpkin.

Heaven forbid, you’re an introvert and live in the SOUTH!

I have had so many people in my life, mostly southern immigrant relatives, tell me how I should be and that my inability to be like THEM makes me unsuccessful and possibly insane with a low EQ.

You know, they say “Look up when you walk!” Excuse me, but I am thinking. “Why don’t you smile?” Because maybe you’re pissing me off and the thought of saying anything that will get my ass kicked is not tempting. “How come you don’t want to hang out with us?” Because I don’t want to get arrested for tagging along with people who do stupid things. “Why don’t you gossip with us?” I love the quote from Admiral Hyman Rickover, who said, “Great minds discuss ideas, average minds discuss events, small minds discuss people.”

Then, of course there is the whispering, which eventually gets back to me, I don’t know why people do it. You know, the “she thinks she’s better than me” nonsense (because I am quiet and keep to myself, especially around idiots), which is funny considering the fact that presumably I don’t speak. So, unless you’re psychic, which I doubt, how can you possibly know what I am thinking? I mean, a TRUE snob will TELL you that they’re better than you are. I know, I’ve had several experiences where real life actual snobs (usually some obnoxious child) have come up to me, can’t even pronounce my name correctly (it’s not Shane, it’s SHAYE), and tell me how much better they are than I because they’re parents bought them the latest pair of high gear, unreasonably expensive sneakers.

Oh, yeah. You’re better than I am. I believe you. I mean, those sneakers are soooo cool!

Status and money, Meryl. They give you permission to be different and to forge your own path away from the mainstream (unless you like living in a cardboard box under a bridge). Otherwise, we introverts find we have to fight to find a space in this world where we can be ourselves, to be accepted without having to compromise who we are or be threatened that someone will do it for us.

I am an introvert. And an Aries. What a vile and alien concept! I am supposed to be gregarious and sociable, and there have been times when I have been (usually out of necessity and/or gratitude). I think I get picked on because I relate well to some and not others based on my reaction to their behavior. I have been told that I have a strong presence that is very attractive and when I do not respond enthusiastically or rather, remove myself from the group, people feel rejected. But it isn’t always about them. Sometimes I am observing. Sometimes I am just at a low ebb and need to recharge. But they should realize that I am the center of my universe. I find that people that always need to be entertained by others have never really matured and I am too old to be friendly with “infants”.

I am also judgmental, opinionated, moody, sarcastic, self-protective and somewhat cranky, which has nothing to do with introversion. But I can be pleasant, mostly when I am free to do what I want in my own space on my own time my own way, with no interference. None. Occasionally, I come out of my cerebrum and engage in witty conversation with people, but only because they have proven to me that they are not moronic and I am not wasting my time and energy when I could be alone creating something. Because, you know, some people you can’t talk to no matter how hard you try. With them, everything is an argument. And how wasteful of energy is that?

Sometimes I wonder if I am an introvert because I hate being around people or because I truly like being alone. I think it’s a little of both. Some of it’s learned behavior; defense mechanisms I have picked up to survive and deal with this extroverted world. But put me in a room with soft chairs, natural light, with good music and a good book and I am pretty happy.

Too bad I can’t make a living doing just that.

Nope. I gotta get out into the world. Go see the sights. Make friends and influence people. Network (translated from the Japanese, meaning “to kiss ass”). Be a team player (Japanese too, means “go along to get along”). It’s enough to make me sick, and it literally has. The way this extroverted world has been (dis)organized perfectly for them and if you don’t fit, well they’ll fix that or die trying!

I accept that there are consequences to all actions and non-actions. I just don’t understand the negative reactions to those among us who want to be left alone, which, when challenged, makes me want to react badly. I really don’t mind being unpopular or under-popular (not everybody aspired to be Marcia Brady, okay?) but what I don’t understand is why a person who doesn’t like me because I am not a social butterfly or a gossip feels to need to confront me or spread rumors about me or sabotage my work. My mom always says, “Treat people how you want to be treated.” Well, if I leave you alone, doesn’t it make sense for you to leave me alone?

You go east and I go west, all right? We don’t have to be friends but we do have to be respectful or at least civil to other people. There really is enough room in the world for everybody to live peacefully. Right, President Bush?

My feeling is this: you have every right to live any way you want, but when you do something that could be harmful or dangerous to ME, I have an obligation to do everything in my power to protect myself. And in my world that doesn’t mean confront you, no it means get away from you. Live and let live, and that works both ways. I mean, self-preservation is the first law of humanity, my mom always says. So, if I see a poisonous snake coming my way, I don’t go to it, I move away from it. Thank God, I have the gift of fear. But what is it worth if others don’t have the same sense about things?

You can go to work, arrive on time, do a great job show initiative and even be friendly and there will still be people who will not like you, so why try to go out of your way with these folks only to be figuratively slapped down? I mean, there have been times when I have said hello to someone, loud enough for them to hear it (because I am NOT shy I am INTROVERTED) and they’ve walked right past me. I don’t hold it against them; I figured they have a good reason or whatever. They’ll talk to me when they get good and ready. But God forbid, I am busy, preoccupied or simply not interested in holding a conversation with someone who’s going to spend a half-hour whining about who in the office is cheating on his wife, skimming off the company’s profits or is gay but, shhh…in the closet. Oh! I am a pariah. A stain on the company’s roster. An embarrassment to my fellow human beings.

Rude.

Look, I was hired to work 35 hours on a specific task for a mediocre salary. I was not hired to be a maid, personal assistant, confidante, confederate, therapist, parent, competitor, target, comic relief, “yes” woman, punching bag and garbage dump. I am not getting PAID that much! If I speak up for myself then I am accused of being disruptive. If I excuse myself and keep myself occupied away from the group then I am “strange” and should be fired. Like Stacy J. on “The Apprentice”.

I’ve never quite understood office politics. I mean, when I was a young student, I did what came naturally and was rewarded for it. Not in the adult world! Whatever happened to John Houseman, the extremely eloquent Shakespearean actor who later in his life, was featured in a set of commercials where he declared, “We make our money the old fashioned way…we EARN it!”? Every good thing I have received in my life I have earned; worked hard. There is no question I have earned my stay at my places of employment, but I seem to have to defend myself for not wanting to pay to play, man. I gotta scratch backs and expect a knife in mine. That’s not fair. And don’t tell me life’s not fair. It certainly can be. Just get off my back and walk away. That’s right. Walk…I said WALK AWAY.

Too bad introversion is not a disease. I mean, when a person is allergic to strawberries, we don’t say to them, “Oh, come on! Eat it! Don’t be such a wuss!” No, we allow them, and even encourage them not to eat strawberries. Don’t eat strawberry shortcake. Don’t cut up strawberries on your cereal. Hell, don’t even wear pink! Because we know the consequences: man, DEATH!

So, what do you do when you’re allergic to bullshit? How does one keep oneself safe from the low-brow and low-minded? There’s no money in hiding in caves (unless you’re Osama bin Laden) and it’s not that easy to get on welfare anymore.

It would be great to investigate how some introverts are leading successful lives under the wire. You know: the ones that nobody talks about or bothers. What’s their secret? I mean, until I hit the lottery or Oprah calls, I’ve got to find another way to live and be happy.

But I can’t compromise who I am. I have to look at myself in the mirror every day and be satisfied. And since, there really is no reward for being phony, I guess it’s better to be miserable as long as I remain true to myself.

I think that’s why some introverts are bitter. Well, maybe it’s time we lifted our voices together and screamed ENOUGH! BACK OFF! And if that doesn’t work, well there’s always a room at Bellevue Hospital waiting for us. I think I still have a medium-sized straight jacket somewhere…

When I, the Mastermind, find a solution to this issue I will let you know what it is. For a fee, of course.

I shall always remain,

Shaye

"I am myself, and if I have to hit my head against a brick wall to remain true to myself, I will do it."

– Fellow Arian and possibly an introvert, Marlon Brando April 3, 1924-July 1, 2004

 

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