One of my professors has made frequent comments that I’m “too quiet” and that she’s thankful for our weekly reflection papers so that she knows what I’m thinking. She made this comment again today, on our last day of class, as I was shaking her hand and thanking her for the semester.
Her comments, although not intended to be malicious, were hurtful.
It’s a fact: I am a quiet person. If you scan the page, you’ll see that I’ve shared this tidbit about myself with the entire readership of my blog (by the way, thanks for reading my ramblings Writer, Laura, & Mom) in my profile. Don’t believe me? Scan over to the top right and check it out for yourself.
Go ahead, check it out. I’ll wait.
I’m quiet. And I’m serious. And I wear purple “Chucks” to school on Fridays because they make me happy.
I was tearfully pouring out my heart to Hub when I got home this afternoon that just because I’m quiet doesn’t mean that I’m not smart or I don’t have anything valuable to contribute to the conversation. I am a highly intelligent individual that just doesn’t talk a lot … unless I really, really know who I’m talking to. Even then, the conversations tend to be lop-sided toward whomever I’m speaking with. I just plain don’t talk a lot. Never have.
Ask my mom.
So I think I can explain, at least a little bit, why I prefer to be quiet:
~ I enjoy listening to other people talk
~ I enjoy absorbing everything that’s going on around me
~I like to hear all sides of an argument/conversation/topic before I weigh in. (This has actually taken a lot of practice and I’m still not very good at it.)
~ I take a while to decide what I want to say and by the time I’m ready to speak up, the conversation’s either changed topic or moved on way past what we were talking about when I first started framing my eloquent soliloquy
~ I get easily bored and I end up in my “happy place” frolicking with the butterflies
It’s the “taking a while to decide what I want to say” and “get easily bored” that tend to get me in trouble because life doesn’t have a “rewind” button and I miss chunks of conversations when I start thinking about my responses or enter said “happy place.”
So my tears turned to giggles when Hub couldn’t keep his concerned face when I moaned about there being no “rewind” button on life. He laughed, I laughed.
And all is well with the world.
There’s nothing wrong with being quiet, by the way.
Just thought I’d throw that in.