The Tartt Take

When it comes to social interactions, it’s common for people to put themselves into one of two boxes: introvert or extrovert. Even those who don’t do that for themselves often find others doing it for them, with little to no nuance or consideration for anything beyond basic definitions, whether it’s feeling shy or tired out by social interactions for introversion or feeling outgoing or energized by social interactions for extroversion. Since others tend to put me into the introvert box, I’ll be exploring my take on that in this post.

For years now, I’ve thought about how different people respond to social interactions. Based on some conversations I’ve had with some who once thought themselves introverted and now consider themselves extroverted, I think much of it comes down to one’s inner voice. Those whose inner voices are more critical of them around others tend to tire out more easily around others; since their inner voices are quieter and less critical of them when alone, they can feel more energized while everyone else is away. In contrast, those whose inner voices are more critical of them when alone tend to tire out more easily when alone; they feel more energized around others because their inner voices are quieter and less critical of them when others are nearby.

Because of this, I believe that healing the pain and trauma that fuels the critical inner voice will prevent excessive tiring out whether alone or around others. My experience of healing a lot of emotional pain supports this notion. Whenever I’ve done that, especially when I’m letting go more often than usual, it takes far more to tire me out than it normally does, even when I’m interacting a lot with others. Conversely, I tire out extremely quickly when I’m feeling the most stressed and am doing little to no letting go. That said, I also believe that some ways of interacting with others are inherently tiring, and anyone who is made to interact in those ways will feel tired afterward. Even when I’ve been on top of my game, these types of interactions have still shaken me or tired me out.

One of the biggest conversation exhausters for me is small talk. Les Giblin considered the purpose of small talk to be breaking the ice between two people so that they could then quickly move on to more interesting subjects. I like that idea, and used that way, it can be effective. However, countless people have conversations that are overwhelmingly comprised of small talk. I can’t stand that. Lengthy discussion about things I’m not interested in is a great way to get me mindful by making my mind go blank. Nothing about that inspires me, so trying to converse in small talk tires me out because wracking my brain in the hope of coming up with something to say takes a lot of effort.

Similar to this is when someone wants to keep a particular conversation going when I have nothing more to add. This often happens when I make one simple remark or joke that constitutes all I had to say on the matter, yet the other person will take that as the starting point for a lengthy conversation. Trying to come up with more responses in that situation is exhausting, and I often just go quiet rather than wear myself out.

By far the most exhausting and frustrating thing for me in conversation is dealing with people who try to force the conversation where they want it to go. Aside from interrupting me and blowing past what I say to focus on what they want, they also attempt to control what I say and how I say it. Some of the ways they do this is by trying to hurry my answers along, asking the same question repeatedly without giving me any time to think of a response, constantly interrupting my stories to ask questions about what I was going to say next anyway, giving advice or negative opinions about nearly everything I say, trying to make me talk or keep me talking when I’m feeling overwhelmed instead of letting me sit quietly or get away for a bit until I feel better, and pressuring me to talk about every little thing (such as by asking, “What?” when there’s some silence that lasts longer than a few seconds or if I chuckle to myself out of nowhere). All of that is incredibly draining and I always want to avoid such interactions whenever possible, along with minimizing them when avoiding them isn’t an option.

Making all of this even worse is the fact that I generally do my best to listen with the intent to understand. Even more so than casual listening, listening to understand is inherently tiring, especially when someone rambles on at high speed for long periods of time with few to no breaks for me to think about what they’ve said, let alone come up with a thoughtful response to any of it. It seems that most folks in social situations are looking for surface-level interactions rather than the deeper interactions that I enjoy. As such, they seem to feel uncomfortable when I attempt to give a slow, deep answer to a fast, surface-level question or take the whole conversation into a more meaningful direction.

As frustrated as I can feel from such interactions, I do realize that those who interact this way might not even be trying to cause harm. I believe that most ineffective communication stems from people just doing what they’ve been raised to do or what those they spend the most time around do rather than any bad intentions on their part. For example, answering open-ended questions (those that begin with who, what, when, where, why, and how) activates deep thinking, which gets tiring if there are multiple such questions in an interaction. Although asking lots of open-ended questions can be used intentionally to tire somebody out, I doubt most people have this goal. I believe that they simply are used to asking those questions instead of finding other ways of requesting certain kinds of information and thus default to that in general conversation, along with many other aspects of ineffective communication.

My dog Sawyer was a great example of how the introvert/extrovert dichotomy is false. As with most dogs, he loved spending time with me, other humans, and animals. He always greeted me excitedly whenever I came back home and loved to be around me, whether awake or asleep. However, he also spent time by himself: looking out the front window, napping in various places, or just being by himself without doing anything in particular. He showed that even dogs still take time out for themselves and don’t have to fit into one particular box regarding sociability.

I covered much of this in a similar post a few years ago, which I only realized after nearly finishing this one (Whoops!). Despite much overlap between the two posts, I hope that the time and experiences I’ve had since writing that earlier post have still made this post useful. While I can handle difficult interactions much better when I’m at peace, I still prefer slower, quieter, more mindful, and more meaningful interactions. Even those who are more outgoing than I generally am also seem to enjoy slowing down at times, such as when I led a short, guided meditation at an event a few years ago. Since I’ve largely given up on trying to change people, I’ll continue seeking out those who interact in ways I prefer, avoiding as best as possible those whose interactions consistently leave me feeling worse, and hoping that everyone (including me) changes for the better over time.