More on Intro v Extro...
For those of you not enjoying Dagger Aleph's blog (and the by the way, why aren't you reading it?? good stuff. good stuff), we've been discussing Rauch's article on introversion. Which got me to thinking about my relationships with my relatives.
I really, really love my Dad. He is an introvert like me. We talk on the phone every Sunday, and once we've exchanged content, we hang up--it is not awkward, we do not force conversations, or struggle to find pleasantries to exchange with one another. Neither of us enjoy phone conversations, per se, but we enjoy each other, so we ritually fill each other in/rant/talk about politics/my advisor/his congregation, etc. for about 45 minutes, and then it's done.
My mother really really tires me. She is an extrovert. She calls at least 4 times/week, and well, we have no content to exchange. How can we? She's calling more than every other day! She doesn't have a job any longer, isn't interested in my work (more than the superficial how-can-I-brag-to-my-friends-about-what-you're-doing information), doesn't have the memory to remember the names of characters in my life (or the last sentence I spoke in a given conversation), etc. So, she resorts to chatter--"You've always had such pretty eyes. Did I tell you what McKenna (my neice) said? She's so cute. How's your dog? Is he sleeping? Have you done anything fun lately? What'd you eat for dinner tonight? Did I tell you what I made for dinner last night? Boy, it was really good. I had a baked potato and a piece of chicken. I'm trying to watch my weight, you know. How are you wearing your hair these days? I bet it looks cute. Well, you don't seem very talkative tonight. Are you okay? Are you mad at me?" etc.
It's a form of torture which is quite exquisite in the amount of pain it brings me. And I simply can't make her understand: I'm okay, we're okay. I just have no content to exchange with you. So I don't want to talk any longer.
Going down South with her relatives is the above experience to the sixth power. Since that side of the family is full of extroverts, and they seem to feed on one another's energy, I am simply overwhelmed with attempts to chat about nothing. I am frequently cast as a snob, a mute, a cold Northerner (we Yankees simply don't know how to be warm), a weirdo. And it would be fine if they would just leave me alone. But these "awful flaws" of mine don't seem to dissuade any of them from swarming me.
This is one reason I started smoking. Although smoking isn't exactly encouraged, it's more socially acceptable than introversion. Sooo, by smoking, I had a socially acceptable reason to excuse myself from the family for treasured moments of silence and alone time.
I've since chosen to quit smoking, though I notice that I go to the bathroom an awful lot these days to flee the hob-knobbing at academic conferences, the barrage of small-talk questions at family reunions, the parties full of meaningless interaction. It's only a matter of time before people start to ask me about that, too...
I really, really love my Dad. He is an introvert like me. We talk on the phone every Sunday, and once we've exchanged content, we hang up--it is not awkward, we do not force conversations, or struggle to find pleasantries to exchange with one another. Neither of us enjoy phone conversations, per se, but we enjoy each other, so we ritually fill each other in/rant/talk about politics/my advisor/his congregation, etc. for about 45 minutes, and then it's done.
My mother really really tires me. She is an extrovert. She calls at least 4 times/week, and well, we have no content to exchange. How can we? She's calling more than every other day! She doesn't have a job any longer, isn't interested in my work (more than the superficial how-can-I-brag-to-my-friends-about-what-you're-doing information), doesn't have the memory to remember the names of characters in my life (or the last sentence I spoke in a given conversation), etc. So, she resorts to chatter--"You've always had such pretty eyes. Did I tell you what McKenna (my neice) said? She's so cute. How's your dog? Is he sleeping? Have you done anything fun lately? What'd you eat for dinner tonight? Did I tell you what I made for dinner last night? Boy, it was really good. I had a baked potato and a piece of chicken. I'm trying to watch my weight, you know. How are you wearing your hair these days? I bet it looks cute. Well, you don't seem very talkative tonight. Are you okay? Are you mad at me?" etc.
It's a form of torture which is quite exquisite in the amount of pain it brings me. And I simply can't make her understand: I'm okay, we're okay. I just have no content to exchange with you. So I don't want to talk any longer.
Going down South with her relatives is the above experience to the sixth power. Since that side of the family is full of extroverts, and they seem to feed on one another's energy, I am simply overwhelmed with attempts to chat about nothing. I am frequently cast as a snob, a mute, a cold Northerner (we Yankees simply don't know how to be warm), a weirdo. And it would be fine if they would just leave me alone. But these "awful flaws" of mine don't seem to dissuade any of them from swarming me.
This is one reason I started smoking. Although smoking isn't exactly encouraged, it's more socially acceptable than introversion. Sooo, by smoking, I had a socially acceptable reason to excuse myself from the family for treasured moments of silence and alone time.
I've since chosen to quit smoking, though I notice that I go to the bathroom an awful lot these days to flee the hob-knobbing at academic conferences, the barrage of small-talk questions at family reunions, the parties full of meaningless interaction. It's only a matter of time before people start to ask me about that, too...
Labels: Relationships
posted by slickaphonic at 2:27 AM
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