Tuesday, July 31, 2018
Being an introvert
I am an introvert.
I like to be alone.
Or with a couple of people close to me.
I like to read, knit, sow, draw, paint, do crafts, walk, observe birds and clouds, do yoga and meditation... and I love clothes (not fashion but style).
I am lucky enough to be able to learn quickly and I have an excellent memory. It has allowed me to try many things and be quite good at them... but I am not detail oriented and not a perfectionist. I was never great.
In my younger years, this was really hard for me. We live in a society of greatness and spotlight. I was never the first and hated the latter. It made me feel like I was never good enough... like something was wrong with me. And I tried... but deep down I didn't really care... but I didn't know I didn't care... and not caring made me not succeed and feel even more like I was not good enough. I was not in the right surrounding for an introvert. I didn't even know what an introvert was until very recently. I was labelled as shy - very shy. And shy was wrong... I had to heal it... I had to get overt it. It made me feel like I was not good enough like I didn't belong. I tried different groups, tried to fit in tried to become less shy as you are suppose to be. Tried to heal.
Go big or go home they say.
I fought for a long time.
To fit it.
To be how you are suppose to be.
To go big.
It made me scared, miserable, physically sick.
It made me doubt that I could even be someone.
It made me doubt I had a purpose.
Only to realize years later that there was nothing wrong with me. I was simply an introvert. That was OK.
It was OK to not like big groups of people, noise or the spotlight. It was OK to not be great and to not have big goals, it was OK to not be a super achiever and detail oriented. It was OK to not be a perfectionist. It was OK to not fit in.
It was OK to go home.
Then I allowed myself back in my bubble in my nest... where I feel good about myself and my life. My simple life of caring for my son and husband... my simple cooking... reading, knitting, sewing, drawing, doing yoga and meditation... my walking and stopping to look at a cloud or a bird right there... playing dress up... my being here and now... and not really caring for the rest.
I don't have big plans, big goals or a bucket list.
I no longer feel, like I should.
I do what I want when I want and how I feel it.
It doesn't mean that I have given up or there is nothing I want to try or do... it just means there is no pressure. I will do things, try stuff, visit places when the time is right. Not rushing things but letting them unfold.
I no longer try to fit in.
And I know I don't and never will.
That's OK too.
I am me.