Top 10 Myths About ‘Introverts’

Top 10 Myths about Introverts

Myth #1 – Introverts don’t like to talk. This is not true. Introverts just don’t talk unless they have something to say. They hate small talk. Get an introvert talking about something they are interested in, and they won’t shut up for days.

Myth #2 – Introverts are shy. Shyness has nothing to do with being an Introvert. Introverts are not necessarily afraid of people. What they need is a reason to interact. They don’t interact for the sake of interacting. If you want to talk to an Introvert, just start talking. Don’t worry about being polite.

Myth #3 – Introverts are rude. Introverts often don’t see a reason for beating around the bush with social pleasantries. They want everyone to just be real and honest. Unfortunately, this is not acceptable in most settings, so Introverts can feel a lot of pressure to fit in, which they find exhausting.

Myth #4 – Introverts don’t like people. On the contrary, Introverts intensely value the few friends they have. They can count their close friends on one hand. If you are lucky enough for an introvert to consider you a friend, you probably have a loyal ally for life. Once you have earned their respect as being a person of substance, you’re in.

Myth #5 – Introverts don’t like to go out in public. Nonsense. Introverts just don’t like to go out in public FOR AS LONG. They also like to avoid the complications that are involved in public activities. They take in data and experiences very quickly, and as a result, don’t need to be there for long to “get it.” They’re ready to go home, recharge, and process it all. In fact, recharging is absolutely crucial for Introverts.

Myth #6 – Introverts always want to be alone. Introverts are perfectly comfortable with their own thoughts. They think a lot. They daydream. They like to have problems to work on, puzzles to solve. But they can also get incredibly lonely if they don’t have anyone to share their discoveries with. They crave an authentic and sincere connection with ONE PERSON at a time.

Myth #7 – Introverts are weird. Introverts are often individualists. They don’t follow the crowd. They’d prefer to be valued for their novel ways of living. They think for themselves and because of that, they often challenge the norm. They don’t make most decisions based on what is popular or trendy.

Myth #8 – Introverts are aloof nerds. Introverts are people who primarily look inward, paying close attention to their thoughts and emotions. It’s not that they are incapable of paying attention to what is going on around them, it’s just that their inner world is much more stimulating and rewarding to them.

Myth #9 – Introverts don’t know how to relax and have fun. Introverts typically relax at home or in nature, not in busy public places. Introverts are not thrill seekers and adrenaline junkies. If there is too much talking and noise going on, they shut down. Their brains are too sensitive to the neurotransmitter called Dopamine. Introverts and Extroverts have different dominant neuro-pathways. Just look it up.

Myth #10 – Introverts can fix themselves and become Extroverts. Introverts cannot “fix themselves” and deserve respect for their natural temperament and contributions to the human race. In fact, one study (Silverman, 1986) showed that the percentage of Introverts increases with IQ.

Finally someone that understands me! This is me to the last detail! I’m not weird. I can be defined. There’s hope yet.Seriously, this is so damn accurate. Can’t disagree with a single point. In the original article the first comment is by someone that suggests that this guy (original writer) may have aspergers or autism. All I can say is, ‘Crap!’. Being an introvert is a natural disposition of someone that has less time for pointless banter and is more interested in understanding why things are the way they are and why people do the things they do. Seeking social acceptance is not the objective of the life of an introvert. As it states above, they’re more about substance than they are about image.

I’m losing myself

Acceptance. I’m pretty much screwed without it. No amount of affirmation, gratitude or inclusion will ever fill the gaping hole left by not being accepted for who I really am. Needing to pander to the dictates of others, or suppress my true nature from fear of ridicule leaves me wanting for life. I could easily be Charlie Chaplin or Jim Carrie if I felt confident enough to show my silly side. It’s often this silly side that makes me feel most human.

I have an underlying need on occasion to abandon decorum amongst those that I trust will not use that moment of surrender as a yardstick against which to measure me. Moments like that would make me feel so much more wholesome. But I do not see any that I can trust in this way any longer.

It’s not possible to live a life of perpetual pompous parades of good etiquette or restrained manners every moment of my life. Such unnatural behaviour has turned me into the jaded bitter old man that I am. Realising the need for social order on one hand, but also knowing that if unrestrained I will probably be shunned. I am not as contradictory or hypocritical as I may sound right now. This surrender I desire is not a surrender of principles or ethics, nor morals or discipline. It’s simply a surrender of control and restraint in being able to express myself in the most natural and colourful way I am capable of. With dignity of course. Always with dignity.

I used to reduce many to stuttering, blubbering, gyrating, tearing, helpless bundles of laughter because of my antics and my humour, but I have no inclination nor motivation to express that side of me any more. I have no inclination for a life fully lived. The romantic notions I write about are lost concepts to my present being. Distant memories of a youth never lived. I am faced with a reality that spits in the face of my aspirations, and just saying that literally conjures up images in my head of venomous interactions of previous lives.

I am a recluse under construction. I do not fit in, nor do I aspire to any more. I despise the erosion of sincerity that I witness around me, and I refuse to play any part in it. I am not socially anxious, nor inept. Nor do I have a mental illness or disorder that predisposes me to this behaviour. My only shortcoming is that I expect more than people are willing to expose of themselves. Our embellished facades shall be protected to our very last breath. And I will protrude like a hernia against the six pack of a society that is obsessed with image but lacks substance.