Extroversion is Not a Weakness

I adore personality tests. Maybe it’s because I want to know that I’m not the only one who thinks the way I do. It’s also possible that I just really like taking tests (I know, weird. That’s why I want to know I’m not the only one.) I found a great one HERE that offers a MBTI-type breakdown and I just knew that I would be almost evenly split between being an extrovert and an introvert. But I was very wrong. I was solidly classified as an Extrovert and that made me really upset. Let me explain why.

The summer before entering my junior year of high school, I attended an FTE-EFL program. Every morning we had econ lessons and every afternoon we did a leadership/team-building/self-discovery activity. On the day in question, we were all blindfolded and moved as a clumsy blob through a mostly open space to a densely wooded area, laughing at our efforts to stay together and upright. Upon arrival, we waited until a counselor led us individually to a rope that wound around mild obstacles to a clearing at the finish line. Silence was the absolute rule – a tall order for thirty-odd teenagers.

I settled in to await my turn, yearning for the quiet. I had felt overwhelmed by the constant press of people surrounding me during the day and the sounds of the city at night. The traffic noise and chime of the clock tower faded away, replaced by the lazy hum of dragonflies and rush of the breeze. I completely relaxed for the first time in three days. When a counselor gently placed my hand on the guide rope, I eagerly set off around trees, under branches, and over rocks; I felt no human presence save the occasional snap of a twig several yards away. The end came too soon and I reluctantly sat among the growing group of finishers.

I can’t say how long the entire experience lasted. It felt as if we sat there for hours, waiting for the others. I drifted, thinking about exploring literally unseen territory, when the sobbing began. It was as if a bucket of cold water fell from the warm summer sky. And it wasn’t just from one of my friends. After the first tears came, a dam of suppressed emotion burst from the group, and everyone just let it happen. Without conscious thought, we all drew closer together in silent support. When the direction to remove our bandannas came, it shocked me to see which bold, outgoing, or seemingly tough teens were upset. When asked about it, they agreed that they had never felt so truly alone. The seclusion that I had craved was their worst fear.

Later that evening, we completed a personality assessment. Without exception, every person overwhelmed in the woods tested as an Extrovert. I was somewhere in the middle of the spectrum, and although I’m ashamed to admit it, proud of the fact that I didn’t “need” anyone. The memory of the silent hike made such an impression that I developed a solid belief that Introversion was the better source of strength. Quiet meditation, reflection, and deep thinking were where I needed to be. Getting energy from being around other people was a liability that I did not want.

My MTBI type, however, tells a different story. After much introspection, I have to admit that it is true. My extroverted tendency is why I can empathize with others and offer compassion and enthusiasm. It is why I love planning events, meeting new people, and even attending conferences like the one that started this whole discussion.

It’s one of the reasons I launched Our Dawn Breaks. I wanted to create a space where people with many different experiences can find solidarity. I do need other people, and that’s okay.

Featured Photo Credit: Stock Photo