“Why are you so quiet?” 

This reoccurring question has haunted me my entire life and will, I imagine, continue to haunt me. As many of you may know or have come to understand, I am an introvert. I prefer listening to speech, small huddles or one-on-one conversations to large groups, renewing my energy in solitude to “relaxing” with friends, and a cup of tea and a volume to a karaoke bar. 

When asked this question again recently, my heart trembled. I felt weary and unnerved. In this age when boisterousness is elevated, it feels criminal to be the “quiet one.” There is a perpetual pressure to fill the silence with nothings. To speak quickly and sharply. While my friend did not mean to injure me, the question sent me on an inner spiral of shame, and I questioned my self-worth. Quietude is central to who I am and is so often misunderstood. Thus, this defense is addressed to the noble-hearted who seek to better understand the “quiet ones” in their lives.