I am an introvert. On one level I have always known this, but I have come to be content with this self knowledge only recently. I can now be open with myself and with others about this part of me. I dare to be proud to be an introvert.
My childhood shaped me. The truth of the absent father, the unavailable mother, the emotional neglect, the loneliness of being an unwanted child, the shame and silent secrets passed to me by my mother have all helped shape who I am. I believe I am a product of my upbringing but fortunately this is not the whole of me.
I am and I can be so much more if I choose to be.
And I do choose to be more than a product of my upbringing. But I am proud to be an introvert. It is a place where I feel most comfortable.
I suggest many writers are introverts. Writers spend time with themselves. They immerse themselves in their silent worlds of words and the page. They read, think, reflect, philosophise, create. They write novels, non-fiction, flash fiction, short stories, poems, articles, essays. They write because of a need to share of themselves, to speak through the written word, to give back, to create.
All writers if they want to share and have their work published, need to place themselves in situations that, for an introvert, can be challenging and demanding. For example, literary festivals, writing groups, public readings, writing courses and retreats, marketing opportunities, meetings with editors and publishers.
Before I became a psychotherapist, an artist and a writer, I hid my natural state of being an introvert. It didn’t fit with my academic past, my corporate identity and the mask I wore to get by in life.
But thankfully no more.
I dare to be proud to be an introvert.
Day 7 – Glen Coe Mountain Centre to Kinlochleven – 11 miles
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