I used to dread large gatherings. I would always go in, wondering if I’d meet someone I could connect with. I would be jealous of the extroverts and the highly sociable people who could walk in the room with the full expression of themselves, hold captive the attention of the crowd and could mold and shape the energy of the room as they wish and please.
I would always wonder, sitting in my little corner, why it seems to be so easy for them to make instant friendships and feel at ease in a space that had me dreaming of the moment where I could slip out, unnoticed, if only to relieve the massive headache that’s undoubtedly been building over the course of the event.
Recently, I’ve started to see the whole situation with more compassion. Extroverts may be people magnets but I am people Velcro. I can choose to whom I stick, and for how long. The world may have its attention held captive by the extroverts and the socially vibrant, but it also desperately need the listeners.
It needs those who can quiet themselves long enough to truly listen, to truly see and to truly seek to understand.