The Weakest Link

I am good at a lot of things. But most of them have nothing to do with successfully interacting with a group of people in a relaxed social setting. I love being surrounded by people whom I love... but it can feel like my roughest & weakest times. I can fall apart quickly. I get drained by the noise & the interaction. I can get hung up in a bad way if I get interrupted &/or misunderstood.

I tend to be the most introverted person in a group. Also the most literal, the least intuitive, the most detail-oriented, the least afraid of conflict. Oh, & I tend to look/sound like I'm having a bad time, even when I'm not. So when the purpose of a gathering is to just be with people, hang out, have fun... I can get nervous because I feel like the way I am isn't a lot of fun for other people to be around in that context, mostly just because my idea of hanging out & having fun tends to be inherently different from the general consensus.

& THAT'S OKAY. It's okay for groups of people to be okay with talking over each other, glossing over comments that don't actually make any sense, playing a game & arguing about the rules, making spontaneous decisions without thinking through the details, etc. I am by no means trying to say that that sort of thing is BAD. It'd be closer to the truth to say that I'm jealous.

I'd love to be part of that chaos. If I could just laugh & make small talk, I would in a heartbeat. The best I can do is wear a smile & try to just ride the wave.

So there they are, so many people I love, having a great time. & there I am, trying to be a part of that, working to fit in to what comes naturally for them. It is one of the most challenging things for me, but I see it as a way to show love. To show gratitude for someone wanting me to be a part of the group in the first place. To share experiences, to build a relationship, to be present in the lives of others. If I never go to events, will people know that I care about them? When possible, I will spend all the energy I can spare, to be a part of that moment for the ones I love. When it isn't possible, I'm learning to be okay with staying home, trying to trust that there will be other ways for me to engage with their lives.

The more I actually relax at this sort of gathering, the more likely I am to disturb the natural flow. If I relax, I'll try to talk to people beyond surface level, & I'll get frustrated when they interrupt or take what I say the wrong way. I'll try to help someone understand something that wasn't explained well, & everyone will look impatient & wonder why I bother. I'll ask a question to try to figure something out, & people will act like I'm worried about something stupid.
"It's okay", they say, & they try to calm me down (which feels weird, since I am calm). They change the subject, when all I really want is to resolve the issue, for us to understand each other. But that's not the point of the gathering for them.

& that's okay.

ISTJ: The Early Years

Thought I'd share a couple stories from when I was around five to seven years old, that upon looking back strike me as affirmations that I've always been this way.

I remember standing in the hallway looking up at my dad, & I don't remember what sparked it (I think nothing, actually, but won't swear on it), but he accusingly asked me if I'd just rolled my eyes at him. I said that I didn't think so, but don't know what it means. He explained, complete with a demonstration, & I replied that I hadn't done that, but it could look like I did because I have to look up to see him since he's so much taller than I am. I got sent to my room.

I wasn't going to eat cooked carrots, are you crazy? Those are so icky. I was told I'd be sitting at the table until I ate the carrots. I knew that this could not actually happen, as life has many other factors. I had a bedtime. Carrots can mold eventually. My parents wouldn't let me starve, or make me eat moldy food. I sat at the table until told to go to bed. & was never again told to eat vegetables I didn't want. (My mom would give me raw carrots, or some other vegetable that I didn't mind. Good solution.)

I once accidentally said that I didn't know about something that I did in fact know. But as the person I was with explained the thing that I did in fact know, they tossed in some information I hadn't previously known. This led me to a brief phase of playing ignorant in hopes that this tactic would work for more things... but it really didn't, it mostly just got me looked at funny. Thus I decided that deceit was not as rewarding as sometimes made out to be.

My first grade class got a new kid. I described her to my mom as "not as brown" as a particular other classmate, but "more brown" than another.