Happy yet awkward

I read a book a few years ago that sort of changed everything. It's called Quiet by Susan Cain. Actually, its longer title is Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World that Can't Stop Talking. I've know I am an introvert as long as I've known its definition.

The distinction between introverts and extroverts that I identify most with is that it takes energy for an introvert to be in a group of people while it gives energy to the extrovert. I love hanging out with friends and having a fun evening with a crowd of people...but those activities are always followed by me collapsing in a heap at home with a need to recharge. It helps immensely that I married someone who is similarly wired.

I remember one time some decidedly extroverted friends of ours returned from vacation. They had barely been home long enough to reacquaint themselves with their pets when our phone rang. They asked if they could come over and tell us about their trip. Of course we said yes, but I was amazed that after a week of travel, the first thing they wanted to do was be with other people. That is pretty certainly the very last thing I would have considered.

So Quiet explored this and other characteristics of being a person who likes to be...quiet. It turned out to be an enormously validating book for me. No longer did I think something was wrong with me because I love voicemail and prefer to take walks by myself and find comfort in busy work. At the end of her 368 pages, Susan Cain had revealed to me that not only am I OK, I actually have something important to add to a world that seems to idolize and demand big personalities and group projects and risk taking.

All of this came to mind a few nights ago when Rob and I attended a large fundraising event for a local charity. Rob has been heavily involved with the charity for about five years, now serving on several committees and having a position of responsibility. He knows a lot of people there. I know a number of them, too, but much more on a friendly acquaintance, "oh, you're Rob's wife!" level. You know, enough for about 6 minutes of conversation before it gets awkward.

We've been to events for this charity many times before but Saturday was different. Due to Rob's current involvement, he had lots of people to "talk shop" with and a need and desire to mingle about the room of 300. I knew that it would be a lot easier for him to do that without me quietly in tow. I also knew that many of the conversations would not make much sense to me and that my presence might change the tone of them. So I happily kissed him on his way as I planned to enjoy the post-dinner entertainment on my own.

I was very happy to sit at the table listening to the live band. But then I realized I was the only person there with 9 empty seats. That didn't bother me but I knew it looked weird so I got up and moved to the side of the dance floor. I very happily stood there watching people dance. But then I realized the MC/Dance Party Cheerleader was making it his business to drag women out on the dance floor to teach them how to line dance. I saw him notice me so I decided I needed some water.

I happily hung out on the fringe of the room with my water bottle, but then I realized that enough people knew who I was and might wonder why Rob and I had abandoned each other. While it is socially fine...and even preferred...for married couples to mingle separately at large parties, it's not really fine for one to be mingling and the other to be wallflowering.

I tried to go out into the lobby, but my presence there was even more obvious due to the bright lights. I wandered back into the ballroom and tried desperately to figure out where in the world I could be happily alone without being noticed and raising questions that would put Rob in an undesirable light.

I found refuge in the restroom, taking an impressively long time to apply lipstick. And then I found a chair outside the ballroom and happily busied myself looking at my photos on my digital camera. I was quite engrossed in this busy work, so I was startled when a couple of Rob's extroverted colleagues targeted me as a wallflower and insisted that they join me and introduce me to their friends. Exactly the situation I was trying to avoid. Sigh.

Fortunately Rob showed up just as I was trying to commit the new names to memory. A few more pleasantries and we were off to the heavenly solitude of our car.

The entire experience left me so out of sorts. It was so strange to be absolutely at peace with being alone at a party (thank you Susan Cain!) while at the same time knowing it didn't look right and feeling I had to not look like I was alone (thank you extrovertedly focused society!). If I had been completely anonymous it wouldn't have mattered. It was purely because I didn't want to put a weird social spotlight on Rob that I felt any awareness that simply being my own quiet self wasn't appropriate. UGH!

I know this situation is going to come up again, so I need a better solution. I can fake being extroverted for awhile, but I know that when I hit that wall, it's OK to stop. Maybe I'll bring a box of Quiet next time and hand them out. Or better yet, maybe I'll find another introvert, quickly introduce myself, and then we can happily and quietly hang out together while watching the extroverts do what they do best.