What is the Right Balance?
Okay, I admit it…I’m a loaner. Being a writer makes being
alone easier. I also want to mention that I like my own company. There! I said
it.
So why do I feel guilty about that?
I think I know why: it stems from hearing most of my
acquaintances boast how their lives are filled with daily excursions—a must,
they say—and having several close relationships. And there lies the dichogamy .
. . I can go days without communicating with anyone except for my husband. Yet,
I chastise myself for not needing to be around people, even though I find most
chit-chat frivolous, uninteresting, and most social situations exhausting.
When in gatherings I’ve taught myself to be patient with
myself and bow out physically and emotionally. I will escape to the bathroom
for a few minutes, then come back rejuvenated. Somewhat. When that wears off, I
find a quiet corner and result of observing people. Body language is
fascinating. I can learn a lot from watching and using this material in my
writing.
And in the process, I’ve learned that I’m not the only one
who has social limitations. There has to be a reason people resort to drinking
alcohol to help them “take the edge off.” We all have our limitations. And
that’s why, I wonder about the people in my life who claim that they cannot be
by themselves, that they “need to be around people” all the time. To me, that
seems inconceivable. These kinds of declaration I view with suspicion. Let me
be more explicit: from my vantage point, how is it possible? They bound to run
out of things to talk about. And if they don’t, what they have to say merits
substance?
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a hermit. I do enjoy some
people’s company. I appreciate the company of people who really listen to what
I have to say. I have little patience for those who are busy formulating an
answer, retort, or come up with their own agenda while I’m in the middle of
talking. I don’t enjoy the company of those who continuously interrupt me while
I talk.
And if that happens, I calm down. I decide not to share
anything of myself, because, what’s the point? When I have a conversation with
someone, I don’t want it to become a competition of who can talk more, who
sounds smarter. It should be a give and take experience. And this is why my
circle of friends (which are few and fewer) is numbered on the one hand.
I don’t see having few friends as a problem. What I do see
as a problem, is my self-critique. The self who tells me I should stretch
myself further from the boundaries I seem to embrace and like.
