Angela Smith
"I became quite infamous for being the quiet psychologist who delivered an iron message in a velvet glove."
"I became quite infamous for being the quiet psychologist who delivered an iron message in a velvet glove."
To me, the word introvert had negative connotations: shy, boring, no fun. And even though the person administering the test patiently explained that being an introvert didn’t mean any of those things but instead had to do with where you got your energy, it took me a while to stop being defensive.
Much of my newfound confidence comes from recognizing that I didn’t have to play into stereotypes of what would or wouldn’t work for my quiet self.
My life story began to make sense as I realized I was on the extreme end of introversion.
Suddenly my world of close relations grew from 20-30 to hundreds.
I was her advocate now and would not allow family, friends, therapists, teachers, or anyone else to say she could no longer do what she did before her illness.
I have an inner introverted ideal to strive to be myself and to know that I’m good just as I am even if I don’t fit any mold.
For the first 16 years of my life, my closest companion was my dog. Animals made sense to me. Nature and the earth were natural connections.
School report cards always read the same: “Groves Twin [insert name as appropriate] is smart, conscientious, and hardworking but needs to learn to speak more in class.”
I'm no longer too much of anything, just more of some things and less of others. It's blissful to finally feel accepted.
As a military veteran with 29 years of service, I’ve seen, done, and been to more places than most will ever even consider in their lifetime.
I have always wanted to develop shows that could reach people in the same way that these characters have affected me.
The birth of my (now 12‐year‐old) daughter Cassidy, my fiery, spirited, and beyond inspiring child, woke me up and catalyzed a journey of personal discovery and brilliant challenge.
I still have a long way to go, but I feel good being who I am and doing what I am doing.
Some people might see that as "playing small,” but I see it as trying to leave a mark on the world in my own gentle, quiet way.
I didn't know why I preferred to be alone at home reading a book or watching a movie instead of going out.
I stopped making excuses about needing time alone or leaving a gathering early.
I’ve been struggling for most of my life with being an introvert. I didn’t feel accepted for not being the type of person who stands...
I'd like to think that being an introvert helps me tune into my subject and that I take time to notice the little things.
Resources like Quiet Revolution help grow my confidence to live my life as myself.
I finally reclaimed solitude when I discovered poetry.
My stomach was churning, my palms were soaked, and worst of all, I had the racing thoughts of self-doubt: Why would they ever want ME to do this?
I can make conversation, but it’s restricted to the niceties and talk about the weather, which, granted, in Minnesota is actually an interesting topic, but still.
Don’t do something unless it’s your bailiwick, your idea, your goal.
I am an excellent listener, which is a critical skill for a conductor. You must hear all elements of the music, bring out the important ones, help fix errors and mistakes, and make decisions about where the music will go based on where it is at the moment. And it's different every time.
I like to talk to people one‐on‐one, and I've gotten a lot of great interviews, but it can be really, really hard to get up my nerve to approach total strangers and start a conversation.
I was cast as an actor in a commercial; I did some modeling for a London fashion brand; I planned my own sport events ceremony; and I am now managing my own marketing campaigns—all things I never dreamed I would have the confidence to do.
I needed to give all my strengths to spreading the message about introversion so that introverts feel better in this world.
When I was very little, being quiet was not such a big deal. As I got older, however, that changed.
It may not be every quiet kid’s story, but it was mine.
I love my life; I love myself; and I love my family. And I finally have the feeling that life is good and it will only get better.
I tried being extroverted in my early twenties. I apologized for my quiet nature and tried to cover that up. It backfired on me—big time.
It scared me, and I didn't know how I was going to do it or if it was even possible.
I put on the usual brave face and tried to get on with it. Unfortunately, things didn’t go well.
Nearly everyone thought I was nuts because it seemed to have come out of the blue—I didn't talk to very many people about my plans while I was forming them.
None of my friends knew anything about my household when I was growing up. I had one face for the public, and one for when I was home.
I like to be alone, but at the same time I need people to be around me. That makes me wonder: are people making me a better performer?
I find it terribly, emotionally uncomfortable, even painful, to have these necessarily extroverted talents and yet a quiet and peaceable nature---especially in the performing arts, especially in this country.
I am continually learning and reminding myself to not only accept who I am but also to accept that others don’t sense the world the way I do.
When our world completely shattered and we plummeted into a crater of darkness, what was left?
I feared I was doomed to a life of lackluster activities and regret that I wasn't more social.
My boss was telling me that my silence was a problem--one that would negatively impact my future.
I began to like myself again and treat myself with kindness because now I no longer have to feel ashamed of who I really am. I didn’t fix my social problem because there was nothing to fix.
Don’t get me wrong. I am quite personable, charming, and have many great qualities, it’s just that outgoing and bubbly is not one of them.
Never would I have thought my art would end up getting covered on sites such as TrendHunter and Forbes or that I would be asked to speak on panels and at workshops.
I had an inner life to go to—a safe, quiet place deep inside myself, where I could live, think, and feel without anyone criticizing my inner life the way my outer life was battered.
The next thing I knew, my supervisor came to my desk, announced to me that I would be giving a presentation to the corporate officers scheduled to visit in the next couple of weeks, and walked away.
I can’t and do not want to change the fact that I’m an introvert, but I can choose which environments I take part in and who I surround myself with.
He channeled all his depression and anger at my mom even though in public he was known as a very soft guy.
Life is about having a dream and not knowing how to get there but starting anyway.
I have the “cool” and “creative” job. I have friends who are still begging for a position like mine.
Sometimes, I feel like I need to express exuberance on the outside in order for other people to be interested in me, but it’s just not who I am.
Every fiber of my being wanted to scoop her up and carry her away off that stage, but I stayed seated and waited for a miracle.
As we’ve gained a better understanding of the difference between introversion and extroversion, we have begun to appreciate our opposite approaches and even take advantage of their differences.
After all this time, the quiet never stops surprising me.