It might come as somewhat of a shock to you, dear readers, but I have quite the outgoing, chatty personality. I am very loud and gregarious, and generally enjoy the company others. And based on a one-dimensional appraisal of the dominant side of my personality, people are quick to attach the party girl tag to me.
And while this tag is accurate to an extent, my true nature is that of a homebody, particularly as I get older, and especially as we head into winter. I like my own company and nothing more than being home, pottering around, with the cat following closely behind. In many respects, I’m a bit of a Nanna (and this is not to impugn Nannas in any way shape or form).
At work, I am often shushed (because I am loud*), or feel pressure to do so because of the culture. I remember one public sector workplace I landed in in the mid 2000s (it had an education/research focus) the culture was “no chit-chat on pain of death”. I went the whole day not talking much, because conversations that weren’t work-related were not encouraged. I would go home from work and talk non-stop for an hour. It was like the dam had broken and could not be plugged. Needless to say, I moved on quite quickly to a more conducive environment.
I read a wonderful post the other day from Ed Batista, an executive coach. He discusses the dichotomies and juxtapositions of his own personality. He struggles with integration and sways to an either/or approach and ends up feeling “forced” to hide aspects of himself. To quote Ed:
I’m not only a tender, affectionate, loving person–I’m also a snarky, competitive hard-ass.
I know how exactly how he feels.
While I am chatty and loud, I can also be quiet and introspective. I can be fierce and judgmental, but also compassionate and caring. I love trivia and soap operas, but then immerse myself in academic papers on brain science and social psychology. I can be incredibly bossy, but I yearn for great leadership.
People are never flat and one-dimensional, and I am no exception.
*When I was a high school teacher, one year my graduating Year 12 students gave me the “We Can Hear Her Before We Can See Her” Award. It was a proud moment in my teaching career!