NO, I’M NOT SHY AND I’M NOT ANTISOCIAL, I’M JUST AN INTROVERT.
I’ve belatedly realised it was World Introverts Day earlier this week ( January 2; like most introverts I’m always late to the party, if I turn up at all, that is) and I thought I’d seize the opportunity to explain what it is I mean when I explain that I’m an introvert, albeit a sociable one- what it means for my art, and why it sometimes takes people by surprise.
Being an introvert doesn’t mean that I can’t be outgoing, the life and soul of the party, a leader, a public speaker, a social media maven (if only) or a rabble-rouser. It just means that if and when I partake in these activities there will be a certain price to pay, a forceful counterbalance in terms of my energy levels, to the benefits that these things bring.
One of the reasons I struggled as a photographer is that as much as I love them, I found people exhausting. For the most part, I’d completely fall in love with my clients over the course of a half day shoot, savouring their idiosyncrasies and capturing them on camera, attempting to reveal the real personalities and family dynamics. As a perfectionist (often goes hand in hand with the introvert personality type) I would throw my whole self into engaging with each member of the family and the intensity of that relationship would result not only in some hopefully amazing photographs but also would leave me reeling with exhaustion. I would literally need to lie down in a darkened room for a few hours afterwards!
But far from it being a deficiency or a negative character trait, I have learnt to embrace my introversion and sensitivity as a gift that feeds my creativity.
On the plus side my introversion suits my life as an artist perfectly and vice versa. I am happy spending long stretches of time on my own and the fact that I live much of the time in my own head and overthinking everything gives me a great resource for my painting.
Authenticity and intuition are key components for my painting process. My life and business are strongly values-led and these values help me make and sell my paintings. You won’t find the phrase ‘sales funnel ‘ in my business vocabulary. It can, for me, only be about building connections and trust, and slow burn towards building a customer base.
It also gives me a flair for entrepreneurship which I never knew was there. (Another way of phrasing this might be ‘unemployable’!) It makes some aspects easier and others harder, of course. Spending solitary hours in the studio is only one aspect of the work. I’m slowly working out ways of marketing and selling that work for me.
We live in a world biased towards the extrovert; in higher education and work I learnt to adopt an extrovert armour without fully understanding what I was doing, and why, and the consequences ( I was cripplingly tired most of the time.) The main reason that running my own creative business suits me so well is that I can do it my way, on my terms, in accordance with my own moral compass, my fluctuating energy levels and my changeable vision.
I am possibly not what most people understand as the typical introvert. The main defining feature for me is that my energy levels are sustained by adrenaline and cortisol whilst I’m engaging with people, and then plummet. Only time alone, in quiet and preferably in nature can top them up again.
I love conversation but the deep and meaningful kind, and am unduly sensitive to whether I am being listened to properly. I find small talk wearing. I’m reasonably comfortable talking to a group or making a presentation yet I hate being on the phone without being able to pick up physical cues. I’ll share my thoughts only after some reflection which is frustrating for people who want spontaneous answers.
I love a social event if it has meaning for me or someone I care about but I will always feel drained afterwards. Quite often I will experience it in a slightly detached way, on the edge physically and emotionally, enjoying observing other people throwing themselves into the proceedings and watching the interactions and shenanigans of others. Often ending of course with a subtle, ‘Irish goodbye’, without fanfare. (I hate goodbyes.)
As mentioned, I spend a lot of time in my own head, processing, thinking, or indeed not thinking at all. I like time to make decisions on my own in my own way and tend to baulk at collaborations or team working. Other introverts report that this is often construed as aloofness; it really isn’t, we just need that processing time. If I am called to collaborate, and it feels a good fit for me, I respond enthusiastically and with commitment. But have to protect my energy and compensate with lots of downtime.
I feel much more able to express my feelings in writing (or painting) rather than speaking. Many is the time I’ve wished I had the eloquence to respond immediately to someone’s rash political views or insult to another with a witty and scathing retort. More likely I will lie in bed that night and craft the perfect response- too little, too late.
I don’t ‘wing it’ and I rarely improvise, preferring to prepare well and know what my outcomes are likely to be.
I have very few really close friends and those I do have realise and accept the high expectations I place upon them! Surface level friendships that go no deeper than the school-gate talk are of no interest to me these days. I crave time on my own and yet adore profound connection and conversation.
A friend once told me I don’t know how to have fun- and I admitted that the very word makes me shiver, being redolent of children’s parties and hen nights. I don’t do that sort of fun, no. But there are many other forms of positive emotion that I am well practised in and can generally tap into easily; the quieter types; serenity, awe, deep contentment, gratitude.
The biggest lesson of my life has probably been taking this huge leap of understanding into my own nature; that I’m at my best in the quiet places, where I can truly be myself and reveal the truths that make me tick, and that I’m no longer bound by the social conventions and expectations that exhaust me with their contradictions and inauthenticities. I’ve found my voice.
As my business grows and I am more exposed and more vulnerable I have two choices; honour my sensitive, introvert soul or lay myself open to hitting the wall as I exhaust myself with networking, sales, and all the other things we are ‘supposed’ to do.
Counter-intuitively my self-knowledge has liberated me and made me braver and more outspoken than before. I won’t be hiding my light under a bushel any time soon.
