A letter from eighteen year old me, to eight year old me

Dearest me,

I know that right now everything is wonderful and funny and you're still seeing things in the reds, yellows, blues.... but this will not last, believe me. 

You still count down the months, weeks, days, hours and minutes until your next birthday because, really, what joy is there like to be a year older.... but I promise you that you will look back and you will miss those seconds, those moments spent wanting to be something more, without ever acknowledging all that you are. You will turn nine and forget what it feels like to be eight. Then, one day, you'll be dreading the next birthday because life just isn't birthday cake and blown out candle wishes anymore. 

Do not forget what it is like to be eight. Do not forget what it is like to be small enough to be carried on your father's back, to sit in the couch under your grandfather's arm. Do not forget what it is like not to care about the size of your thighs, to not know outrage at injustice, to not know that there are pains worse than a skinned knee from a fell bicycle. 

Before you know what it is like to lose a best friend, to be fooled by the wrong guy, to realise how unhappy your parents are. Before you sit, scared and shaking, on the phone with a girl who has taken a handful of pills and wants to end her life. Before your friends throw up lunch like it is a new fashion, and they are all on trend. Before you fail a class, really fail a class—beating yourself up, feeling unworthy, a failure. Before the world became shades of grey. 

Now, you are eight and none of these terrible things have happened to you. You smile at the girl in the mirror when you brush your teeth, for you have yet to be taught the worst hate of them all; to hate who you are. You have yet to even realise you had hair to fix or a smile to straighten. You, in pink two-piece sparkly swimsuit, unaware of the fact that thighs that touch are wrong, for whatever reason. Before the nitpicking and the people pleasing, the changing and the shame, the grooming and the loathing. Before it mattered what they found attractive, what they didn't. You still know that you are perfect. 

You have not been touched, greedily and unapologetically. You, with your baby skin and naive mind, giggling at the scientific names for genetalia. You do not hate him, or him... or him. You do not even know them. You, that virgin soil, are unblemished and unashamed. 

I am sorry. I am sorry that you will turn eighteen and bitter and angry. I am sorry that will know loneliness better than yourself. I am sorry that you have lost family, friends, love. I am sorry that you have depended on things; the painkillers (Advil for the physical pains, Panadeine for the rest) and the cough syrup (for the sleep, mostly, but sometimes for the cough) and the vodka (for the demons); instead of people, who let you down when you relied on them, trusted them. I am sorry that you have hated yourself. I am sorry that you have had darker days than any of those you thought you had needed that blue nightlight.  

....and I am not sorry. I am not sorry that you have learnt to let go, at least to some degree, of those who hurt you. I am not sorry that you are critical, smart, careful and clinical. I am not sorry that you are strong. I am not sorry that you have learned that hate too is passion, and passion is the fire that keeps you alive. I am not sorry that you have changed, have grown up. 

This is who we were, who we are, who we will be.... and I am learning that it is okay to be okay, but know that sometimes you will not be okay. This too is okay. We are okay. 

-

Some more early morning writing. It is a beautiful 6:27 as I begin and 7:33 as I end. I am scared, mostly. There's a whole world outside of my blue bedroom and I have to face it next week. Some days I feel like I'm going to throw up. Other days I feel next to nothing at all. I'm running out of time. I'm not ready. 

How to survive loving an introvert, by an introvert (A duology on introverts by an introvert, part 2)

Finally writing that second part to the introvert series, which I had intended to be long finished by now. Whoops. Here goes though. (Also, Happy 52nd Independence Day, Jamaica! This land I love!)


Before I even start, here's the disclaimer: you cannot take this as gospel. Do not quote the mandevillegirl's book of Luke chapter 4, verses 1-8 as the way, the life and the truth. I'm writing about introvert generalisations based on personal experience, preference, research and opinion. This is not the findings of a scientific study. Done. Talk. Uzimmi. Here are the steps to surviving your love affair (or friendship, I apologise - but the love I had intended this to be about was romantic love) with an introvert:

1) First, carefully assess your loved one for signs of introversion. Does your loved one require hours alone during the day? Do they frequently disappear on you, or "fall off the grid" every now and then? Not reply to your frantic Whatsapp messages or answer when you called them 8 times? When you do spend time with your loved one, do they often have lots of feelings or ideas to talk about? Do you notice that they abhor or detest small talks or catching up with people they bump into in public? Do they often curl into your side when introduced to new people or faced with a crowd of strangers? Would they rather pick seats in a movie theatre as far away from other people as possible? If you answered yes to any of these, suspect that your loved one is an introvert. If you answered yes to, like, all of these... not only is your loved one most likely an introvert, they are also most likely me. (Haha, I wish I was kidding.)

2) Don't approach dealing with your introvert by attempting to "fix" them. I assure you, your introvert is not broken. Or depressed. Or aloof. Or an asshole. (Unless they're actually an asshole, which would kinda suck.) Stop attempting to "draw them out". Stop suggesting that they be more "social". Chances are, they're social enough already - in exactly the most tolerable doses for their particular breed of introversion. Your attempts to "fix" your introvert will probably only frustrate them. Plus, eventually, you might be enough of a jerk to convince your introvert that they are actually as broken as you seem to think they are... and then your introvert will spiral into frustration with themselves at what is just how they are. 

3) Introverts, however, are not delicate. Do not treat your introvert like they are always about to shatter into a million pieces. I assure you that while nobody enjoys being yelled at, yelling at your introvert when they are being incredibly ridiculous will not break them. Your introvert is not an infant. They're just a person, who you should respect and treat as you would treat any other person.

4) Give your introvert space. Please, please, please respect that sometimes your introvert needs some time and space to retreat into his or herself. Perhaps your introvert likes to take quiet bubble baths, or read books for hours at a time, or listen to a certain kind of music. All of this is simply their preferred way of spending time with themselves, which is most important for an introvert. Do not take it personally if your introvert seems inclined to spend a lot of time away from you. It really is just the way they deal. If they seem particularly grouchy, or snippy, or angry... it's probably not you. (Unless you done messed up, in which case you ALREADY KNOW IT'S YOU.) Just give your introvert time to charge up again. 

5) Understand that your introvert is probably better at arguing than you are, in the long run. (Assuming that you are an extrovert,) You probably feel like you're particularly gifted with the snappy comebacks, and you quite possibly are... but your introvert will almost always be the better arguer. That is because a characteristic of an introvert is the fact that they like to think before they speak. An introvert is more likely to carefully weigh his or her responses before responding, even in more casual conversation. This is why introverts often come across as wise, or even sagely (haha) to extroverts seeking advice - quite simply because they tend to think before they open their mouths. So, understand then, that your snappy comebacks carry little weight... and if you keep pushing, your introvert may just school your ass and hand it to you on a platter with a spoon. ("Eat. my. ass," is my favourite way to put the cherry on top of my argument, because I guess I just like a little sass.)

6) Responding to your introvert's silence with concern is unnecessary, and after a while, annoying. Occasionally you catch your introvert zoning out and staring off into space with whatever "cute" little face or another they make when they're not listening (don't pretend not to know what I'm talking about; the slightly parted lips, or the tongue poking out, or the furrowed brows, or the squinty eyes... whatever) and then you give the dreaded "Hey, are you okay?" The first time you do this, we shake our heads a little and smile at you. "Oh, haha, I'm fine..." maybe. And the second, third, fourth, fifth... times? A small smile, a mumbled "I'm fine". After you've asked us for the millionth time if we're "okay" or "fine", we are trying to refrain from rolling our eyes in our heads. Unless you notice that your introvert is crying, has stopped breathing, is possibly bleeding from an orifice or another, or something equally gruesome and worrying, we're fine. We look fine, right? Whatever "fine" means. 

7) Be okay with the first move. Chances are, you had to make the first move with your introvert anyways. It is highly unlikely your introvert spotted you in a crowd, knew they had to have you, jumped up and came over to introduce his or herself to you. (Just typing that made me go "blech!") Even if your introvert saw you first, they probably sat on their hands and stared at you with all their might, willing you to notice them back. Initiating is not particularly an introvert way of life. Phone calls, conversations, relationships; chances are your introvert wasn't the first one. It doesn't mean they didn't want to be. Personally, I'll see guys I'm interested in... and literally just sneak glances at them until it becomes unhealthy and a little creepy, and then I'll spend about ten minutes thinking of some less mortifying way of getting their attention. Usually I'll be thinking so long that I'll look up and the poor object of my obsession has gone about his business without even noticing me. Sucks. 

8) You'd like to take your introvert to dinner at a fancy restaurant and a movie? Your introvert is thinking 'eek!' Maybe a nice night in? Some dinner, something to drink, a movie (and then some amazing introvert sex *hint hint* jk) instead? Going out to dinner would require mentally prepping to go out, possibly bumping into someone they know, wondering about all the possible social interaction that could take place. Your introvert could handle it, but you could also stay in and have some of that amazing introvert se-... I mean, just kidding. (*cough*) Your introvert's idea of a "date" is probably binge-watching an entire season of some quirky comedy on Netflix and eating some kind of food off a napkin, like pizza and fried rice. (Or is that just me?)

9) Understand and appreciate your introvert. If you wanted someone to put on your arm and parade around at a party, you will be pretty disappointed to discover that you have picked the wrong person. Know that they are best at one-on-one conversations, they make good listeners... and appreciate these things about your introvert. I promise you introverts are worth the time and effort it takes to love us. 

-

This really does feel like a longer post than it needed to be, but it's minutes to six in the morning and this is my favourite time of the day because the Sun is rising and there's light barely peeking through my curtains and the world is still and it's almost like believing in magic. I'm incredibly proud of myself for setting a blog goal to complete a two-part series that has to do with "blog honesty" (big up my amazing fellow blogger friend who has turned this concept into a 'thing' because it has literally changed the way I write, and I view and value what I write about myself... you know yourself, and I appreciate you a whole lot) and then actually completing the task. Now I'm going to go to sleep. 

How to understand an introvert, by an introvert (A duology on introverts by an introvert, part 1)

Firstly, what the heck is an introvert? I've been doing quite a bit of reading about this one, so as not to lead you (but mostly myself) wrong.

An introvert is not a person who hates people. That, my friends, is a misanthropist, not an introvert. 

An introvert is not even a person who is shy, for one can be 'shy' but not necessarily 'introverted'. Shyness itself is understood as an element of social anxiety; where shy people exhibit apprehension or nervousness associated with interacting with other people, especially for the first time. While often the two exist simultaneously, they are not synonymous. 

An introvert is quite simply a person who is energised by spending time alone, and exhausted easily by the company of others. The word itself means 'to turn inwards', and that should tell you a whole lot about the personality characteristics of an introvert.

So, of course, our introvert is a little more complicated that we initially thought. The typical assumption by people trying to identify an introvert, is that it's the quietest person in the room... and though they may be right, the most introverted (on a scale of relativity) person in the room could very well be the loudest social butterfly. That, my friends, is how introverts throw you a curve-ball. 

"Spotting the introvert can be harder than finding Waldo. A lot of introverts can pass as extroverts." -Sophia Dembling, in a Huffington Post article. ...and she's very right. As an extrovert-masquerading introvert, it's easy to forget you're actually an introvert. Especially if you're a comfortable people-pleaser, because then you become preoccupied within a social setting with making people laugh, ensuring they're okay, being good company and so on and so forth. 

Then the quietest part of yourself, the part that actually has needs, reminds you in a voice that steadily grows louder that you are tired. People have that effect on an introvert. The exhaustion. 

This also has nothing to do with loving or hating people, for even the company of those you love the very most can be draining. 

It's just that our introverted souls get weary, and sometimes we need to cancel a few plans, leave a weekend free and tuck ourselves into ourselves and hold our thumbs over the reset button. It's the only way we know how to survive this life.

There are other things about introverts too... Like sometimes, small talk makes me want to scream. The "Hey, how are you?" conversations drive me into a frenzy if I have to have them too often. Those trivial straws of conversation that people clutch at feel like they're literally going to drive me crazy. The "What's up?", to which people really only expect "Nothing much, how about you?" narrow my eyes into slits. I just don't like small talk... (Myth-busting time: "Introverts hate conversation." Most introverts love conversation... like, really, love conversation. Which is why we have that problem with small talk. It's impersonal, insignificant, and just generally a sign of poor conversation. Ask us about the universe. I dare you.)

And, sometimes, we feel like the sore thumb on a happy hand. Especially in huge crowds and at parties. It's easy to feel like you don't belong, as you watch what appears to be a large crowd of people simultaneously recharging their cells together, casually inquiring how life has been, what's up, and so on and so forth. Worse, at a party filled with people we don't know - because, really, it's not about the new people, but we'd rather spend time with people we already know. Which is inconvenient if your extrovert friends are busy building a totally new circle.

It's okay, we get it... you're totally tired of hearing what we think about the meaning of life, evolution, where we go when we die, what love means, why humans can't access their entire brain capacity, the size of the blue whale's heart, why poetry is lonely, why marriage is a failing institution, etc. etc. etc. We know we're kinda, sorta a lot sometimes. I spend a lot of time with myself, so I really know that my head can take me some places that overwhelm even me... so I totally understand if I come off as a cup of tea that's been steeping too long.

Image "borrowed" from the Huffington Post article that I was reading, among others, to help with this post. Thanks HuffPost. You's the realest. Article here.

"Yes, I'd love to hang out with you," I will tell you at the beginning of the summer... and then by the end of June you have still yet to hear from me. It's okay. I do not hate you. I have not died. I am not going through a midlife or quarterlife crisis (I think? I have yet to be sure of this one). I'm just resting, at home, alone. Probably binge watching some series (Supernatural, if you were curious) and reading a couple of books (the Divergent trilogy, Eleanor and Park, James Dashner's Maze Runner trilogy, Sophie's World (again) and so on). Then, finally, when you make plans and insist I change out of my underwear and into something decent and comb my hair, you watch me steadily become drained. We have a wonderful time, but by the 5th hour of non-stop socialisation, I have started chewing on my lip. By the 7th hour, I have started to fold in on myself and occasionally zone out. God forbid we approach the 11th hour, I will be tearing out my own hair. I now need to escape, retreat into my shell and recover. "I had a great time today." I did, I mean it. 

My favourite classes are large lecture style where the teacher can't notice me/call on me to answer even a question that I know the answer to, my favourite people are extroverts because they balance me out, sometimes I don't answer my phone when it rings because I needed a minute to prepare myself for the conversation and I rarely engage in text conversations that start with 'hey, what's up?', silence isn't a bad thing, I like driving alone at night (except when it's particularly creepy) and I very often use the excuse that my "people cup is empty" when I'd like to go home. Those are a few more things.

I could go on for hours about how I feel about certain social situations, but I do think there's going to be a point where it stops being because I'm an introvert, and just that I have a little social anxiety. So for now, this blog post is complete. Hopefully, there will be one to follow on how to love an introvert. If that doesn't appear, then know I tried and I couldn't. Edit: I finished the two part series! Yay! Part two on loving an introvert here.)