A friend told me, many years ago when I was too young to understand, that “the older you get, the more like yourself you become.”
What rubbish, I thought. But, she was a wise woman and I now know that statement to be true.
See, I’m an introvert. A born and bred, dyed-in-the-wool, card-carrying introvert. I’ve always felt I had a black “I” emblazoned on my forehead. And the older I’ve gotten, the more like myself I’ve become. More introverted…if that’s possible.
It’s taken years to accept that but now, it seems, I have no choice in the matter. I do, indeed, have a pre-existing condition. Not covered by insurance, alas. This year or any other.
Susan Cain, author of “Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking” is known as the fairy-godmother of introverts. Her research extols us! Gives us permission to celebrate our introversion. She even says it’s “cool” to be introverted. Who knew?
It’s great to be appreciated, if only in literature. But in reality it doesn’t change much.
Introverts need peace and quiet to re-charge. The older we get, the dearer that time becomes.
Socialization becomes extreme sport to “mature” introverts.
Coping in crowds? Well, with age, that goes from the maybe-we-can-do-this to no-way-that’s-happening.
The good news is that we are cheap dates. Noisy restaurants, big parties, festive events, big galas are all on our no-no list. Consider the money we save on clothes, mani-pedis, shoes, hair fluffing.
On the other hand, we surely miss out on a lot of fun.
It’s a toss up.
And the older we get, the more like ourselves we become.