Dear person calling my kid shy

  – by Veronique Vanderbeke

Can I please ask you not to call my son shy (at least in front of him)? Shyness does not equal introverted. Here’s just one characteristic of being shy that not all introverts share: the primary defining characteristic of shyness is a largely ego-driven fear of what other people will think of a person’s behavior, which results in the person becoming scared of doing or saying what he or she wants to, out of fear of negative reactions, criticism, rejection, and simply opting to avoid social situations instead. [i]

I don’t want my son labeling himself as shy, which is generally perceived as a negative term. He truly is not, he is just introverted and thoughtful, which according to science is something you are probably born as. (The old nature vs. nurture argument.)

So I don’t want him growing up thinking that being introverted is somehow bad, or worse than being extroverted. That he needs to snap out of it and change. I don’t want to hear any well-meaning advice about what to do or say to help him “come out of his shell”. He will always be an introvert. He will just learn how to deal with the good and bad that entails. As we all do.

 

Being an introvert means that he usually takes a while to warm up to new situations or people. That’s just fine, and might I add healthy and normal. Why do we expect children to jump in without thinking, even though most adults wouldn’t? But once he’s at that sweet spot, he is super outgoing and talkative. Not shy at all. And as such a young person, so much in this world is still new to him. Think about that for a minute.

 

I fondly remember last June, when we went on a trip to Syracuse, NY. Once there, we visited with friends of my husband, and their immediate family, for one evening. At first my sweet boy stayed on my lap, quietly gobbling down chips as the rare treat they are. After a little while, he started exploring their house. And it wasn’t long until he was having conversations with all the adults there. He was so comfortable talking to grown-ups, full of animation and enthusiasm. Not shy at all. Introverted.

 

That moment where you thought I was talking for him, random stranger/dear friend, he had actually replied quite loudly. You apparently didn’t hear. So instead of making him repeat his answer, I respectfully did it for him. My son sometimes does not understand that people cannot automatically hear him. He will, for instance, start talking to his dad, while he is still pulling up unto the driveway, fully expecting him to hear him. I am confident he will learn to speak more loudly – or wait until his father is out of the car. He is after all only a 3 year old.

 

And that other moment when he didn’t respond at all, he was probably feeling a bit put off by your inane question. Or maybe he didn’t understand. Or maybe he was just feeling uncomfortable. I am quite sure that he will get to a point in life where he answers all questions. Or ignores stupid ones on purpose. Again, he is only 3 years old.

 

And no, this does not mean I ignore these sometimes awkward social encounters. I do talk a lot with my son about how a situation might have made him feel. I try to empathize and be understanding and show him that I get it. I think that him being able to understand his feelings and reactions is the most important thing. It is the opposite of suppressing them in order to please you, random stranger/dear friend. And I try to model as best as I can, even though I am introverted myself.

 

This has become a subject I am passionate about. I recently read “Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking” by Susan Cain. This book made me realize that I too am an introvert. I never even realized, since I was raised to be ashamed of anything that pointed towards shyness, or introversion. I actually thought I was just an asocial bitch. Really.

 

I wish someone had told me about introverts and their need for quiet time to recharge. I wish my parents had guided me to deal with these feelings of discomfort in new situations. Instead I just stumbled through life, not knowing why I didn’t enjoy staying at parties and big gatherings for quite as long as my friends. Again I get to thank my child for showing me a deeper understanding about myself. There is really nothing like this (mindful) parenting journey.

 

That’s one of the reasons why I don’t like to push my son to talk to you, random stranger/dear friend. (That, and the fact that he is not a monkey who is there for the sole purpose of performing on command.) This Western world will teach him soon enough how it feels about introverts. So as long as I can, I want him to be 100% comfortable about who he is. Maybe this sense of being content with himself will then somehow stay with him through life.  There is after all nothing wrong and so much right about being an introvert.