Life as an Introvert

I wish that people would understand what it is like in a social setting. Many think an introvert can change, but just like a leopard can't change his spots, neither can I change who or what I am. And people overlook it or even dismiss it. Introverts aren't anti-social, but they like their alone time and they feel lost in a crowd or awkward.

I group of in a family of introverts. Both my parents were socially awkward. My father was a loner most of his life and he got lost in his own world. Having a family to care for wasn't easy.. He grew up during the time of depression and I learned that his own father considered him a dreamer. At my father's memorial, my aunt shared about a time when he would go off to be alone, to find himself. And my mother? She grew up without parents. My grandmother died as the stress caught up with her for taking care of grandpa had weaken her immunity and the flu that laid dormant in her body woke. So for all my mom's and uncle's life, their house keeper and uncle took care of them. I don't ever recall if she had friends in school or not. Same with my dad.

It seems that introversion runs in the family.

My parents however had joined an amateur radio club so it wasn't like they never gone anywhere. And my mother had become active an organization called Aglow, but they never raised us nor did my father encourage us to become active in our community. 

Some people think introverts can change. But how? I become uncomfortable in social settings. I try as I may to interact with people, but not easy. Why? Fear. 

Because of my upbringing and experiences, I am very private. What would people say if I said anything about my life? Many times I have voiced myself on social media, but I don't get heard often or they forget. A recent experience was when I posted about not looking forward to church. In the age of social distancing, I much rather stay home. But even before this, I went to church because I want connection yet I don't get it. My sister and I stand and wait for our ride in the lobby,  but people pass us by. Or when we sat downstairs and the pastor wants us to get up and greet each other. To this day people still bypass us and go to their friends.

If this is what it looks or feels like, I want no part of it. I want to belong but how can I belong if I make no connections? Or people won't connect with us.  People have their own set of friends and won't try t connect with us.

I haven't met anyone who would understand us. I will still attend service, but I won't socialize with people with whom I have nothing in common with.

Our unique background sets us apart.

What is the percentage of unreported child abuse? My sister and I grew  up sheltered. I had no idea what I saw and heard was called child abuse and spousal abuse. There have been times when my mother told her friends at the senior center the way our father had treated her that they said she should divorce him, but her response was she couldn't because God wasn't for divorce. So it was kind of a secret and we all suffer and still do. After my father had passed away, all the hurts my mother experienced and the unforgiveness that locked her as a prisoner, came surfacing to the top that she slowly deteriorated in her mind. As a result she succumb to dementia.

There is a lot that people don't know about us.

Why are two adults still living in the house of their childhood? Might be a question some might ask. Most folks move out when they can, but us it was not an option. Our father clipped our wings too soon and we weren't able to fly. My sister and I tried to get a job after graduation, but none would hire us. If anyone would, my father would get the money and that's not what God wants.

Because he cut our wings too soon, none of us got our license to drive. Most of our young adult lives and up, we had to depend on bicycles,walking or the bus. My mother went from driving a car to riding a moped to depending on a walker which she loathed to her dying day.  And here we are still at the house we grew up in filled with bad memories. I heard on the radio, Bob Larson, a man who specializes in deliverance ministry that most people who had grown up in a negative experience tend to forget most of their childhood. That rang true with me. I have vague memory of my past. 

I don't want your pity or your advice, just your understanding

Try to understand what it is like going to a church service and seeing people who are doing better than you. 

Read this article Introverts in the church. I am like that. I look at people and I wish I was like them. I view myself as unworthy of their friendship. I have nothing to offer them. I'm still waiting for my special friend and or my special male companion. Everywhere I look, they are not. I'm waiting for that day where I can fit in. I used to have a special friend, but she moved and wanted nothing to do with me unless good things had happened in my life yet my father was still alive and still mean as hell. Some days I feel like crying when I think about what my sister had gone through. If anyone is misunderstood, its her. And other days I wait for God to fulfill all his promises to me.

One thing for sure even if you don't understand, God does.

I wish I could write more, but I'll end it here. I'll end by saying that some good has come out of life. Grateful for what God had done in my life and while yet most are ready for Jesus to return, I think its too soon.