I’m a classic introvert, according to my mother, who just finished reading Upside-down Brilliance: The Visual Spatial Learner by Linda Kreger Silverman. I’ve been perusing the introvert chapter and she’s definitely right. As an introvert, I don’t hate people–I just find the majority of folks exhausting because I don’t know* or trust them. I also want social interaction to go as smoothly as possible and project a public face in order to mask what’s really going on in my head so I can get the hell away in a polite but efficient manner. This mess is based on a rabid desire for privacy, and not just in terms of knowing I’m the only one who reads my email or looks in my sock drawer. Physical privacy is necessary for my happiness but I’m more protective of my thoughts and feelings and concerns, only talking seriously to a few close friends. Everyone else deals with the public face’s cheerful banter. I only relax when I’m at home, and if I don’t trust who I’m living with or my home is constantly invaded** I get a bit twitchy. If I have nowhere else to go, nowhere I can be comfortable or alone, I become desperately unhappy.

Silverman writes, “The American dream is to be extraverted. We want our children to prefer to play outside with their buddies rather than retire with a good book Our concept of being “well-adjusted” means making friends easily and having lots of them, liking parties, being eager for new experiences, being good risk takers, being open about feelings, being trusting, and loving to be with people all the time. Anyone who doesn’t fit this gregarious pattern is viewed with some concern….Introverts must feel very misunderstood and unacceptable in an extraverted world.” In short, I’m a Bad American.

I’m also a Bad Woman. “I find that many gifted women are “closet introverts.” With their astute social awareness and imitative abilities, they’ve learned the language of extraversion very well, and the face that they present to the world is quite outgoing. Gifted women may be so good at feigning extraversion that they believe their persona is who they really are. The feminine role is incompatible with introversion. Women are supposed to be other-oriented, to be caretakers, to be aware of what other people want even if unspoken, to be selfless. If you’d much rather read a book than talk on the telephone, there must be something wrong with you.”

This is me. If I was a dude, introversion would be jolly good. Women are not supposed to be strong and silent–we’re supposed to be giggling and hugging and patting children on the head and happy happy HAPPY. I wonder how often dudes are asked when they’re having children? No one believes me when I say I don’t want kids and the question comes with increasing frequency now that I’ve finished my undergraduate degree and I’m in a committed relationship with a man. Other women, especially if they’re pregnant or toting a baby around, assure me that children are the coolest thing ever and if I don’t have five I’m missing out. I tell them I’m not committing to anything until I finish my PhD and as I’m just starting a MS program that usually shuts them up. Their life’s work will be mothering, which is certainly an important job, but not one that I want.

I blame the patriarchy for expecting bubbliness and selflessness from people based on their crotchmeat when they’d rather be left alone to think in peace.

*I’m not talking about knowing their name–I know lots of names which are attached to faces, but I don’t know the people behind the faces, and until I know the people the faces scare me.
**Living with my parents this summer, invasions come in the form of 4-H kids, relatives, and neighbors–people I do not trust and don’t want to see at home.