Embracing My Introvert

I am becoming an introvert.

This was a shock for me when my therapist suggested that I might be an introvert. Excuse me? No, that is not possible. You must have misheard what I have been saying because there is in no way that I'm an introvert. I'm an extrovert, I have always been an extrovert, and I will always be an extrovert.

I've been mulling over this for the past week and I'm starting to realize that she might actually be right.

My freshmen year of college I took the Myers Briggs test (since Myers Brigs is highly valued in InterVarsity culture) and it assigned me as an "ENFJ." I embraced the identity whole heartedly. ENFJ's are charismatic and passionate people.They care deeply for those around and are not afraid to show it. They want to challenge people to be the best they possibly can be. This is who I was in college. I was outgoing and extroverted. I was sensitive to the world around me and the needs of others but never afraid to speak up about what or who I cared about. People gave me the greatest sense of joy and accomplishment and energy and I thirsted to be around them constantly. And ounce of alone time seemed to exhaust me. I loved being with people, investing in people, feeling with people, and all things related to people. I was loud and obnoxious at times but my heart was in building relationships. I ascribed very much to the identity of the ENFJ.

But as the years wore on - after I graduated and entered into teaching and then InterVarsity staff a change began. There was a shift I didn't notice. I still operated out of this identity of being an ENFJ, I still operated out of the mindset of being an extrovert. But larger groups tended to wear me out. I needed longer and longer to recover from conferences, from large group meetings, etc. I would look forward to retreating to my apartment and spending time reading, journaling, or calling one friend on the phone. I enjoyed the moments of space from the pressure that came with being surrounded by others. I became less outspoken, keeping more of my deep thoughts to myself and spending more time letting things stew in my heart and mind before processing them out loud. I assumed this shift was coming just out of overwork. I assumed that I was more tired because I was working harder, giving more of myself to students, and I was increasing in age between myself and the young college freshmen. Still hyper-relational and craving the company of others (or so I thought), I just assumed I was tiring out and needed a really long nap.

But I wasn't tiring out, the needs of my soul were actually being ignored. Since I operated out of being an extrovert, I attempted to find rest in being with all the people and I wasn't aware of how tired that was making me. I wasn't fully aware that I felt more rested after reading, after spending time with one on one with close friends, after walking or running, or after just being by myself. I still operated out of a former identity and was so unaware of the shift that I was actually neglecting part of my soul that need to be met.

It wasn't until my housing situation changed that I came face to face with my shift into introversion. My smallish apartment went from a two person household to a four person household in the matter of a week. Suddenly my space was cut off and my ability to recharge was shifted. I no longer had a safe haven of alone time in my room. I was in constant community, with roommates constantly home and around and I felt on display all the time. I became moody and frustrated, unable to put my finger on why.

I love people, I thought to myself. I'm extroverted. I wanted more community of people. Why is this bothering me so much? I crave relationships and people so why do I feel so on edge all the time? What is going on here? 

I had shifted into being introverted, shifted into an INFJ without fully realizing when or how it had happened. Only until something I needed was suddenly gone (my own personal space and ability to get it easily) did I realize I needed it in the first place. My roommates were actually surprised that I was surprised I was becoming an introvert with one saying, "You didn't know you were introverted?"

No I didn't know I was an introvert. The change had come so slowly that I turned around and realized I needed things like space and alone time. I had been so on the edge to my roommates (and God knows who else) because in part I had lost easy access to personal space but also in part I was denying I needed that kind of space in the first place. I was spending so much energy denying my shift into introversion that I was exhausting myself trying to be someone that I used to be. I was trying to force myself to find rest in people and it just wasn't working anymore.

Also I was afraid of becoming an introvert. I was afraid to admit that I was introverted because what if that meant people pulled away from me? What if that meant that the relationships I valued so much, shifted. What if people would try to force alone time on me? What if they stopped inviting me to things? What if they stopped including me because they assumed I didn't like people or didn't want to be around people?

Here in lies my two great needs that appeared to be in constant tension with each other: the need to be known and the need to have space. I still want to know others and be known others by creating meaningful and deep relationships. I still want to be involved and included because I get insecure sometimes. I was afraid to embrace being introverted because I was in part insecure that people would leave. But I also needed space to recharge, to think through my overwhelming messy web of emotions before I processed them out loud (trust me this is the toned down version - I sometimes feel if I share things unfiltered they sound like a crazy messy). Was it possible to have both? Was it possible to advocate for both needs of my soul? But my need to be known seemed to be more important and I didn't want to risk that one not being met unknowingly for a while, I shut down being an introvert and I believe it did some damage to my soul, even damage to some relationships.

For while I crave being known by others, it's hard to do that when I feel on edge all the time. It's hard to do my job well in investing in students when I've given no space for the needs of my soul to recharge and to regroup. It's hard for others to feel they can be around me when I'm moody or grouchy or frustrated because I haven't had space for myself and my emotions in too long. I needed both. I needed to feel invited and included but I also needed to say no sometimes and recharge myself. To filter through the emotions of myself (and of others) that naturally I hold onto. To rest in books, movies, and even just in bed.

So here I am now trying to live in that balance of needs - the need to be known and the need to have space. Yes I still want to be invited to things. I want to be invited to parties, to hang out with people, and especially to have one on one time with friends. That's what I love. I remember that part of my soul that loves to be around people. But I also need to respect my need for space and say no when I need to. I also need to stop denying this part of myself that is forming in this season. That is part of good soul care. To embrace the change and roll with it instead of denying it. Yes, I'm still loud and sometimes obnoxious, I still love being around people, I can function in a large crowd. I'm seeing that these characteristics are not limited to just being an extrovert.

It feels weird to open myself up to my introverted nature but it also feels like a release. I had placed too much pressure on myself to be someone that I thought I was that I had unintentionally denied myself of who I was becoming. In this season I am becoming an introvert and the healthiest thing for me is to let it happen.