Because of the situations I've been in throughout my life, I have spent much of it doing what I like to call, "singing for my supper." Entertaining people to survive. Being constantly cheerful and speaking about the blessings and upsides of my dire circumstances, when in fact, they were so traumatic and depleting I could sometimes hardly breathe.
So I performed, acted, embellished to influence others into thinking I was solid. People like to help people who are solid and have a positive outlook. But afterward, I would be so sorely exhausted, in panic mode, anxious beyond words.
And so I sang, performed, joked, praised and manipulated everyone around me in order to put a roof over my kids' heads and food in their mouth. I did what I had to, always thinking I was an extrovert, never understanding why I was so spent after each encounter. Now I get it. Though everyone labeled me extrovert, and I believed it, I now understand the clear signs that I am massively introverted. And that's okay. It just means that, while I can still perform, I need down time. I have to allow myself that. And everyone will just have to understand.
Here is a lovely picture of what, exactly, it means to be an introvert.
Becky Lyn Rickman
Mom of many, servant to my cats, Cary Grant's other girlfriend (still trying to work out the logistics of that one).