"Vulnerability is [...] having the courage to show up and be seen when we have no control over the outcome." -- Brené Brown
Last week I wrote about feeling weary of feeling lonely. The writing of it was very hard to tease out, but - and I keep discovering this - as I pushed though things and disciplined myself to just write (without pressure to publish but just for the sake of doing it), I felt a lot lighter.
I'm not sure what came over me the day after that but in a moment of boldness I later posted on the Year of Creativity Facebook group (and y'all know I do not use Facebook) to introduce myself for the first time (3 months into the year!) and I decided to share my blog. (Many of the ladies have already shared their blogs, published articles, social media accounts, other projects, etc.)
I had yet to speak up on the group and so, in typical me fashion, I typed with trepidation. I couldn't help but share that I'm an Ennegram 6, and that I was thus afraid that publicly sharing my blog would cause me to stop writing.
I was overwhelmed by the outpouring of responses, the encouragement to keep going, and the reassurance that I am not alone.
Apparently I had been keeping these feelings of despair to myself because I didn't want to be a burden to other people. I didn't even want to put the words to paper because I felt like I deserved to feel the burden of it. (Such is the insidious nature of isolation, whether self-imposed or not.)
But now I wonder if the truest form of opening up isn't burdensome to others, but is instead an opportunity for others to see me as I am. It doesn't demand but rather gently invites.
The same evening after I took that step to share myself in internet land, I spontaneously invited two of my neighbors and their kids over to play in our yard after dinner. To my delight, they responded with quick and eager yesses.
The chill had let up a bit as the day had progressed (as is often the case in Seattle), and I exhilarated in the thrill of having friends to chat with on the back deck as we watched the kids play on the grass and the golden glow settled on the cherry blossoms.
After they left, and we put the kids down for bed, I found myself with an unexpected energy as I tidied up the toys and cleared the kitchen.
It was a simple gathering, in which there had been no planning or food (two of my specialties) - although decaf and Bailey's was offered - but which was thoroughly satisfying for me. And while we didn't have super deep and share-all-your-darkest-secrets conversation, I was the most energized I had been in a long time.
Since that evening I've made a simple connection for me that is changing my perspective in this current season of life for me.
The connection pertains to Susan Cain's Quiet, in which the author proposes two dimensions to personality, the introversion-extroversion axis and the orthogonal axis that measures how anxious/calm or stable an individual (whether introverted or extroverted) is.
(This article, also by Cain, maps those axes to the four humors, with which I am very familiar from Stephen Ministry training, and which also explains the nuanced difference between my and David's extroversion.)
The ah-ha moment for me is that I'm an anxious or shy extrovert. (I've always joked that I'm an extroverted homebody, as in, Everybody come to me, but this categorization of Anxious really puts some legs on this thing.)
I love being with people but I dislike putting myself out there. I think this predicament is amplified by being an Enneagram 6. I am excellent at being a chameleon: I wait to see what others think first, so that I can present only the parts of myself that are congruent with them.*
(*I think this is why blogging is super scary for me, because although some close friends know every dimension and plane of me, I am wont to keep different circles of friendships in which I am a certain version of me. This supposedly is to protect me (from ostracization?), but I do it at the expense of authenticity. It sounds sad when I type this out. Sigh.
So when I tell new friends that I have a blog, I sort of cringe and think, "oh no, they are going to read something that reveals a different part of me that I'm afraid they will reject me for." And there are definitely people I want to be friends with with whom I haven't shared my blog because I am afraid of what they will think.)
Naming this disparity for myself - the fact that I get energy from people but I'm shy to be the first to put myself out there - helped me realize how I actually have more control over my life than I thought I did. I may not have control over how many deep and abiding friendships I can secure (intentionally clingy word choice there), but I can take a simple step (which may or not be related) which is to get my extroverted needs met. This - at its simplest - means to to make plans with people, spend time with them, go out and find people. So adultish, but yes, it is, after all, my responsibility to get my needs met.
For when I feel energized I am a more interesting person which ultimately reinforces my efforts to develop deeper community.
So I guess my goal now is to be aware (and accepting) of my need to be with people (just as I respect and support introverts I know who need alone time to recharge) and, with self-compassion, support myself in the quest to fill my days with more friend time. Sounds like a plan, right? (Insert self-five.)
P.S. I just read the chapter in Quiet on Asian-Americans which discusses my hometown Cupertino and even mentions my high school (!). It made me wonder if I have not adjusted my introvert-extrovert scale to a different culture outside of the Bay.
P.P.S. If anyone else is reading Quiet, I hope you'll comment below and/or text me your thoughts. So far, I'm enjoying it, but also struggling with the lack of differentiation between being introverted and being quiet. I know she tries to bring up that point (and I mention this with the two axes above) but I still think that the analysis is confounded by a subtle confluence between extroversion and expressiveness. I struggle to believe that America or the West is actually necessarily more extroverted than other cultures, but rather that expressiveness and boldness and individualism are elevated in this culture. I don't believe extroversion and expressiveness are the same thing. Anyhoo, maybe I'm misreading this or projecting on it too much.
P.P.P.S. I'd love your comments! Being a grown up means I can "ask for what I want and honor the response" (Richo, How To Be An Adult). Well, this extroverted Enneagram 6 thrives on feedback so I would love to hear from you. :) Thanks, as always, for reading. This is such a good exercise for me, to write and then to be brave by sharing. Thank you so much for being here.
