‘This can’t be so. I have NEVER been this way before!’ A wave of panic rushes over my body. ‘The test…it has to be wrong.’ I take it again just to be sure, but my results confirm my fears. ‘I have no idea who I am anymore.’ I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself. ‘It shouldn’t be a surprise, really. I mean I had an inclining all along. Why else would I have taken the test?’ I look at the computer screen one more time as I accept my fate.
I am now an introvert.
Prior to the World Race, I would have never doubted my extroversion. I practically skipped around campus, saying hi and engaging with everyone I passed. I hoped for strangers to make eye contact with me so I could interact with somebody, anybody. I loved calling friends, Skyping future squadmates, and hanging out with my roommates. I was over-involved in school because I had the desperate need to be around others.
But six months into the Race there has been a change.
I long for time to be alone. I prefer books to conversations, crossword puzzles to card games, and writing down my thoughts to speaking them aloud. I now will avoid making eye contact with people because the idea of small talk gives me the heebie jeebies.
So what is the cause of my Myers-Briggs personality type shifting from an E to an I? The answer to this question has eluded me for quite a while now.
At first, I thought the switch was a bad thing. I knew being an introvert wasn’t a curse that had befallen me, yet I couldn’t help but feel that way. Why was I no longer wanting to engage with others? ‘My social skills must be diminishing. Or even worse!’ I gasped in my head. ‘I must no longer value what other people have to say.’ Why did I want to spend so much of my time alone? ‘I must be intimidated by others. That’s it! I have just simply lost all my confidence because all the other World Racers are so awesome. I can’t compete so why would I say anything?’ I was relieved I found the solution. (Albeit a completely over-dramatic one.)
But the more I processed it, I realized that I have community to thank, not blame, for teaching me to be introverted.
Through living with people who show me grace and love, I no longer feel the need to call attention to myself because I am secure in the love they have for me. I don’t feel the pressure of having to perform for them. I can just be comfortable being who I am: a person who prefers deep, meaningful conversations to the fluff of small talk, a person comfortable enough to find joy spending time lost in my own thoughts, and a person confident enough to not always have to be the one speaking.
Living in community forces you to surround yourself with a group of people that know the real you. You can’t keep up a false version of yourself for others all day every day. You have to break down how you want to be perceived in order to be loved in the way you need. So while living in community is the hardest thing I have ever experienced, I will always appreciate the lessons it has taught me about myself.
