Why being shy is not a weakness

Parents’ evening. Where the word ‘shy’ seems to be shamed more than ‘troublemaker,’ ‘naughty,’ or ‘challenging.’ Where not contributing in class or engaging in group discussions is viewed as a flaw. Where you’re sat next to the loud kids in school to ‘tone them down.’ Where you avoid eye contact with the teacher when they ask, ‘who hasn’t spoken today?’ Every single one of these scenarios are ones which shy people are all too familiar with. Don’t worry, I’m here to defend you.

I hate the word ‘shy.’ It even sounds shy to say it. It’s such a small, insignificant, quiet-sounding word, yet funnily enough it seemed to have the biggest impact on me growing up. Every parents’ evening, I would predict exactly what would be said before they’d even say it: She’s a bit quiet isn’t she?…I would like to see her contribute a bit more…She works very hard but I never hear from her…Hannah is a very shy student isn’t she? I would just sit there, nodding obediently, as though this was brand new information I had never heard before. I’ve always found that those who tell me I’m shy or quiet seem to think they are doing me a service. Do they really think that, suddenly, I’m going to start yapping away now that they’ve informed me of my shyness? No, I’ll speak even less now, thank you. People never let you be quiet in peace.

I will clarify this first: I’m not shy, I’m strategic. I’m not invisible, I’m observant. I’m not silent, I’m listening. There are so many things a shy person isn’t, and society just seems to keep getting it wrong. Why? The ideal extrovert has clearly taken over.

Being told to come out of my shell just makes me want to stay hidden even longer

I recently read the book Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking by Susan Cain and while it ironically included an overwhelming amount of information, it describes the introverted experience to a tee. The author explains how, today, we make room for a remarkably narrow range of personalities where we are told that to be great is to be bold, and to be happy is to be sociable. Being extroverted has become an increasingly appealing personality trait, one which has been turned into an oppressive standard to which we feel obliged to conform. Introverts living under the extroverted ideal can be compared to that of a woman living in a man’s world, discounted because of a trait that goes to the core of who they are. Since when is solitude one of the Seven Deadly Sins?

To understand this ‘extrovert ideal’ a bit more, let me reframe some questions that you might have unknowingly asked your ‘shy’ friends. “You’re so quiet, why don’t you talk more?” is seemingly harmless – you’re just being curious and encouraging. Now, let’s reframe it as though we’re talking to an extrovert. “You’re so loud, why don’t you talk less?” feels much more direct, possibly rude or cruel. “You should really try coming out of your shell, don’t you think?” appears like you’re trying to help, but, “you really need to tone it down a bit, don’t you?” seems very different. What you might believe is heartfelt advice is actually ignorance. Being told to come out of my shell just makes me want to stay hidden even longer. Some people just fail to appreciate that some animals naturally carry shelter with them everywhere they go.

Now that I’ve attacked the ‘extrovert ideal,’ I want to directly speak to you reading this. Have you ever felt like you can’t express yourself properly? Do you seem to find yourself constantly feeling embarrassed? How many late nights have you spent just wondering why? Have you ever not been able to do the simplest things that everyone else seems to be able to do? Do you often find yourself overwhelmed by the smallest things? Do you ever just wish you were normal? Unfortunately, there’s no such thing.

Lying in your bed at night is the best and worst time for us shy people. It is the time of day where I am allowed to be quiet without anyone questioning me. Yet, it is the time of day where I question myself the most. It’s the time where I replay conversations I had with people throughout the day and wonder if I came across as too rude, too sarcastic, disinterested, boring, unsociable…the list goes on. Every night, I can’t quite shake the thought that I’m ruining so much for myself for being shy. I imagine myself in an alternate reality, making speeches, going to parties, performing on stage, talking to strangers, living the absolute dream. And then I wake up.

Contrary to popular belief, shoving someone out of their comfort zone isn’t going to instantly change them

These late-night crises make it hard for me to explain to people that I hate being introverted and shy, how I wish I was loud, outgoing, and social. I wish I could enjoy myself at parties and social gatherings but it is impossible simply because that’s not how I’m wired. There’s nothing I want more than to be the type of person with lots of friends and whose social battery never runs out, but unfortunately, I’m the complete opposite, and I can’t do anything about it. Though I experience these thoughts alone in bed at night, I’m certainly not alone in thinking them.

Being quiet is not a flaw. You do not have to force yourself to say something. I’d rather say one small thing of value than pointlessly ramble on about something that even I don’t know about. Sometimes the loudest people have the least to say. Yes, I may be quiet, but maybe that is simply due to fact that I don’t have anything to say. There’s no dark backstory behind it, it’s just that sometimes I have nothing worth adding to the conversation.

So, what can you do you to make your ‘shy’ friends feel better? Honestly, nothing. Leave them alone. I know that’s not great advice but putting them on the spot is probably the worst possible thing you could do. If anything, don’t tell a shy person that they are shy, especially in front of other people. Contrary to popular belief, shoving someone out of their comfort zone isn’t going to instantly change them. What you’re doing is just making them more self-conscious of what they’re doing and convincing them that what they are doing is wrong. As I said before, just let them be quiet in peace.

If I was sat across from my younger self at parents’ evening, I wish I could tell her that being shy is one of her many strengths, not a weakness. Yes, she may be disappointed that her future self won’t pick up the phone unless she’s expecting it, or that she swipes back and forth on her home screen to look occupied, or that she rehearses what she’s going to say before she even says it, but that’s not my point. My point is, why shouldn’t shy be strong? And what else can being shy do that we don’t give it credit for? But Hannah, you’re so quiet. Yes, I am. You should try it sometime.