Taciturnity and being a conversationalist at the same time? It might sound contradictory, but it’s entirely possible. I live it. In fact, every single introvert—approximately 40% of all teenagers—lives it. Whether we embrace this duality or shy away from it is another story altogether.
If I were a mosquito, small talk would be my ‘Odomos’. The idea of filling the air with meaningless chatter makes my skin crawl. Given this trait, I feel compelled to address the stigma surrounding introversion, particularly in teenagers. We have all, knowingly or unknowingly, contributed to or been victims of this divide, which is precisely why it’s such a pertinent issue.
As young people, we often find ourselves at the forefront of difficult conversations. We tackle subjects like gender, race, and sexuality with fervor, but this divide—between introverts and extroverts—rarely makes it to the discussion table. Many believe this divide doesn’t even exist. How I wish they were correct!
As an introvert myself, I felt the weight of this divide keenly as I entered my teenage years. This part of me became a burden I was forced to carry. The moment we step into this daunting phase of life, we’re bombarded with expectations that set benchmarks we’re supposed to meet. Think about the ‘queen bee’ trope in teen TV shows: you’re only considered fun if you’re out at house parties every weekend. If you choose to stay in, you’re branded as boring.
Over time, I noticed my friends growing distant. “We value different things,” they’d say—a polite way of telling me, “We have lives, and you don’t.” To fit in, I forced myself to attend parties. But instead of finding joy, I’d find myself overwhelmed, trying to look busy on my phone with trembling hands.
Social anxiety became my reality.
These benchmarks, however, are the sad truth of our society. They’re unhealthy and toxic, yet so many of us chase after them. But why? Why do we feel the need to burden kids—who are already struggling to appreciate the person staring back at them in the mirror—with yet another reason to feel insecure?
It took me a while, but I eventually realized that the powers of observation and listening that come with introversion are invaluable. These qualities have helped me lead, shine on stage, and stand up for myself. My introversion, once a source of shame, is now my greatest strength. It’s not a disease to be cured. It’s as normal as having a favorite color.
Introverts are just as powerful as anyone else. Why else do we look up to the likes of Albert Einstein and Meryl Streep? These individuals hold entire universes within their minds. Their silence isn’t fear; it’s depth. Don’t mistake their quietness for aloofness. Don’t turn their introspection into isolation. Don’t strip them of their hope.
As I grew older, I learned to find solace in my solitude and power in my quietness. I’ve come to understand that my worth isn’t defined by how many parties I attend or how loudly I can shout over the noise. It’s defined by the depth of my thoughts, the strength of my convictions, and the sincerity of my actions.
There’s a unique strength in introversion, one that’s often overlooked in a world that prizes extroversion. It’s a strength that lies not in the ability to speak, but in the ability to listen. Not in the capacity to fill silence, but in the ability to embrace it.
So, to all the introverts out there: embrace your taciturnity. It’s not a flaw; it’s a gift. And to those who don’t understand: know that silence is not the absence of conversation. It’s a different form of it. One that’s deeper, more thoughtful, and more meaningful. Because being an introvert doesn’t mean you have nothing to say. It just means you’re waiting for the right moment to speak. And when that moment comes, your words will carry a weight that others can only dream of.