My Life as (Less of an) Introvert

 

As I wrote in a previous post, I am an introvert.  There are few people with whom I have felt comfortable enough to be honest about what I am really thinking, let alone what I am really feeling.  Two years of therapy a few years back helped get me on the track of being more honest with the people in my life about what was REALLY going on with me.  I learned to share difficult and “negative” things and learned that people still loved me.  They didn’t think anything less of me.  They wanted to help me.

Since beginning my blogs back in August (about 2 months ago), I’ve noticed some really wonderful things happen.  First, it is a lot more fun than I expected.  Even on my blogs that don’t have much readership, I still enjoy writing.  Second, I am making meaningful connections with other bloggers.  That’s something I hadn’t expected.  I didn’t really know how the blog world worked.  I was pleasantly surprised to find how interactive it is and how supportive folks are of each other.  Third, there have been several moments where, as I am typing something, I make a connection…kind of like an “aha” moment, normally the kind I would have in therapy.  The process of writing and sorting through my history is allowing me to make seemingly obvious connections that I have not had the objectivity to make for myself…until now.

Fourth, but not last, is that I noticed I am being more honest with more people.  I was having lunch with coworkers last Friday and we were talking about family dynamics and family secrets.  I had a story to share.  In the past, I would have sat there without saying a word.  Instead, I stepped out of my comfort zone and shared a story.  It was more serious than the other stories shared, but it was the story I thought of when I heard my co-worker’s stories.  I’m realizing it’s okay to say things, even if they aren’t as “positive” as what others have to say. 

I made sure to end the story on the most positive note possible.  I shared the story very matter-of-factly, partly because I have been writing about my family history and am feeling more comfortable with it.  It’s my family history, for better or worse.  I have been in situations like this at least a hundred times in the past, where people are telling stories and I don’t feel like it’s okay to tell mine.  It looks like those days are coming to an end.

Blogging as Therapy

I started a blog several years ago, but didn’t keep up with it.  It was in the earlier days of blogs, before I had gotten used to the idea…and had enough trust in web sites to not lose my information. 

At home, I have been keeping my personal journal writing going back 20 years.  My writing has been sporadic, but somehow consistent enough over the years to add up to a significant amount of writing to sort through.  I am almost finished organizing it by year.

For years, I have wanted to write some kind of life history.  Now, thanks to technology, I have a single place to incorporate everthing I have ever written, if I so desire.  I doubt I’ll ever have the patience to data enter all of my old writing.  To be honest, it probably wouldn’t be worth it because most of it is not that interesting. 

Assuming my writing is now interesting enough to be worth reading, it’s because I’ve had plenty of practice writing.  Also, now that I have been an adult for almost 20 years, I have accumulated plenty of life experience to provide interesting content.  And finally, I have developed a strong sense of perspective, which makes writing even easier.