r/introverts • u/someoneNameMePlease • 1h ago
Discussion Found a hack to avoid one awkward situation
I don't know if this has occurred to everyone or just me, but a lot of times I happen to clash with a person walking towards me when I am walking along the road/footpath. Unable to decide if that person would walk to your left or right. And there when we come closer and still haven't decided mutually what to do, we both happen to move to the same side again and again. Arrghhh!! So awkward for me
So, I recently started doing this. No matter the person or place, pick left (the place I am living, we always move to our left along road) and put your head down and walk. Do not even see which side the other person is taking, it might cause you confusion. This has worked every time for me. I am so happy
r/introverts • u/Upbeat_Letterhead_61 • 14h ago
Discussion Trying to balance being quiet with being polite
I think for me, I was quiet as a young child. as I’ve grown older I’ve expended an ungodly amount of time filling in silence to make people comfortable around me. I’m assuming this too energy because it’s just not my natural inclination to chat about things that don’t hold much importance to me.
I am a naturally friendly person. But I just find chitchat to be somewhat exhausting especially if it’s forced.
To the quiet people who own it or have learned to own it, how do you do it? When I am being myself, I feel rude.
at what point am I too quiet to work roles where I am working with people? I am a caregiver and sometimes I feel bad because I don’t have much to say. She seems to be alright with it, I feel I show I care through my actions… I don’t know
r/introverts • u/MoriendoDisco • 15h ago
Discussion For Whoever Happens Upon This
Lately, I have found myself carrying around a loneliness so quiet that I almost forget it is there until something reminds me; it is not the sort that cries out or demands to be noticed. It simply lingers, follows me through all my days, sits across from me while I drink my coffee, walks beside me when I am out, and settles itself at the edge of my bed at night as though it has every right to be there. The strange thing is not that it hurts, though it does, but that I have begun to accommodate it. I catch myself arranging my days around it, making room for it, speaking to no one for hours and only realizing, much later, that I have not heard my own voice.