Stolen post from The Quiet Revolution

I read today a post by Sam Rose over at The Quiet Revolution that really resonated with me. Although she is a self-proclaimed Ambivert and I am an Introvert, the topics she talks about strike very close to home. I have copied the post here below for ease of reading, but please go over to the link above to post comments. Please note that these are not my words even though the feelings described are very much like me.

An open letter to everyone who has ever made me feel like there is something wrong with me—unintentionally or otherwise.I am an ambivert. This means I have characteristics of both an introvert and an extrovert. There are one or two parts of being an introvert that I don’t think apply to me, but overall that’s the description that fits me best. I’m more than happy to spend time by myself and would rather stay at home and binge-watch a TV show or write than go out and socialize with people I’m not close friends with. While others seem to have no problem chatting away in new social situations, I get nervous about meeting new people. Small talk is difficult, and it’s even harder to do in large groups of people or with people I don’t know very well. Speaking up in class or giving presentations at school made me feel sick to my stomach.But all my life, I have felt like being quiet and introverted is a bad thing. If anyone ever described me as quiet or shy, I felt like there was something wrong with me. Those words seem to come with negative connotations, like it’s something to be ashamed of or like I’m only half a person.However, after 27 years, it’s pretty much ingrained in me now: I am Quiet.And some people think it is a bad thing. But it’s not okay to feel that other people see a big part of your personality as defective.So, on behalf of myself and everyone else who has ever felt put down or as if there’s something wrong with them, I ask you to do (or rather, not do) three things:1. Please don’t make assumptions about me. People think they know something about me. They think they can make assumptions about my personality and things I will or will not do, or even things I can or cannot do. A friend once said to me, “You couldn’t stand up and talk in front of a crowd; you’re too scared to even make a phone call at work.” Not true at all and pretty belittling. I just sometimes worry about calling people regarding a subject I’m not very familiar with. If I have to talk about something I know inside out, it’s fine.Someone else once commented, “I don’t blame you for not chatting to people; most people aren’t worth bothering with anyway.” Which just made me sound like I’m not friendly or that I don’t like anyone, and that’s not true either. I’m sure as a result of these assumptions, some people think I don’t have confidence. I may lack confidence in some social situations, but I actually have always had a bit of an ego. I love myself. I pride myself on being different and doing what I want to do without worrying about what people think of me. My quietness is not a reflection of my confidence.2. Please don’t comment on my quietness. I hate it when someone comments on how quiet I am, especially in front of other people. I can’t put into words how low and humiliated I feel. I can’t stand being called on to contribute to a conversation that I’m happy to just be listening to, especially in groups of people I don’t know very well. It feels the same as it did when I got picked on to give an answer in class.This is my personality. It’s just the way I am, and it hurts me a lot when people comment on it like it’s a flaw. I can be loud at home and with friends, but I can’t be loud on command, no matter where I am. And why do people never comment on extroverts in this way? “You’re very outspoken, aren’t you?” “Are you always this loud?”3. Please don’t make me explain myself. Questions such as “do you ever talk?” or “are you always this quiet?” are not okay to ask—they make me feel about two inches tall. What on earth is a person supposed to say to that anyway? No, I’m not always this quiet, but you commenting on it in front of everyone is guaranteed to make it ten times worse. And being told that I need talk or that I need to come out of my shell is not going to help. I don’t have a shell to come out of. I am just fine. Maybe I just don’t feel like talking. Maybe I just feel happier if someone else starts the conversation.I am not unfriendly, and it’s not that I don’t want to chat—I’m more than happy to. But I’m not happy having to explain myself just because I’m “quiet” or a little “introverted.” Extroverts don’t have to explain themselves, so why do I? People think that being this way is not normal; it’s seen as wrong or something that needs to be fixed. But I don’t need to be fixed.People are the way they are. If everyone was the same, life would be boring (and nobody would be able to get a word in). And surely—despite their insensitive remarks—everyone knows that being quiet isn’t a bad thing, right? After a lifetime of being made to feel otherwise, I might need some convincing.

Writing Prompt #3

You receive an unmarked envelope with a check for $5 000 000 inside. Its a legitimate check. What do you do with it? Do you ever find out who it is from? How does it change your life?

Five million dollars. The cheque was made out in my name, but the envelope was completely bare and gave no hint as to its origin.  It was mixed in with my mail for the day, but it has been obviously hand delivered.

I stared at the cheque not knowing what to do. Five million dollars would change my life, but who was it from. Somehow it felt wrong to use the money without knowing where and from whom it was sent. Who would give me this kind of money? No one I knew had access to these kind of funds. There must be strings attached, I thought.

Still highly suspicious, I nevertheless could not tear it up. Instead I opened an offshore bank account, choosing the Isle of Mann for their interest rates and tax benefits, and deposited the cheque. Now that it was safely deposited, I had some breathing room to consider the next steps.

I decided quite firmly that I would not spend a single dollar of the money. There's an old saying, "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth." But this was one horse I just could not accept blindly. What if someone came looking for it years from now. What would I do? No, the money would stay where it was, untouched.

However, I am not a saint. The interest on the money,now that I would use. 0.5 % interest on five million dollars is still a princely sum of $2000 per month. I would then donate half that every month to a random charity, leaving me with a monthly income of a thousand dollars. With a thousand dollars extra every month, I would be able to pay off mine and my parents home loans. With those home loans taken care of, I would be free to use my salary to take my family on a yearly holiday, all over the world. My parents, my husband and children, would experience everything life has to offer, everything that's within my power to give. We would travel to world historic sites marvel at all that came before. We would holiday at rarely visited places and when the quiet gets too much, adjourn to the hubbub of New York, Paris, London.

In my will, I would stipulate that the original money be left alone in a trust, and only the interest will be available for us. The monthly income will be my legacy to my children. The amount not so large that they can afford to be lazy or entitled, and yet large enough to provide a cushion when they fall. Even if I never find out from whom the cheque came, I would be grateful every single day for the rest of my life.

Don't ask, don't tell

The other day,
I screwed up my courage,
drew a deep breath and
told you a long held secret.

I bared to you a hidden piece of my soul,
a piece raw and blistered from the
constant
rubbing
of the seething mass of
shame
confusion
guilt.

I drew into light

that which had been hidden in the darkness
for half the span of my life.

I waited

in a breathless agony for you to say something
but your words

when they came

were a confusing - disappointing - mix of
legalities and culpability in the eyes of the law.

As you spoke, that piece of my soul began to
slowly
pull away and hide,
back into the darkness
the rawness hidden away behind layers of
gauze and sticky tape and makeup.

The high walls and barbed wire littered with
keep out signs
ensuring once more that the
horrors
buried in their graveyard
will not rise for you again.