INTRODUCTION
ON A SUMMER AFTERNOON FILLED with brilliant rays of sunlight, I sit down in a cafe in Taipei’s busiest business district with a group of young, college-aged women. The air is filled with the wafting, sweet aroma of pour-over coffee. When we look out the floor-to-ceiling glass windows next to us, we see the abundant greenery that fills this street scene, which is similar to much of Taipei. The nine-to-five crowd is speed-walking by at a busy pace, chock-full of energy.
We are sitting here for one reason—a competition. Students who have made it through a gauntlet of previous competitions can choose to interview any of the professional senpais, or senior mentors, who are working in an industry the students are interested in. The women in front of me have backgrounds ranging from literature to hard sciences. These women, who are at least ten years my junior, all arrived early to the cafe. They look as if they are on pins and needles just waiting for me to sit down and begin bestowing my wisdom on them. The first words that come out of my mouth are “Could you please do me a favor? You gals don’t need to be so nervous, OK? It puts a lot of pressure on me.” Suddenly, they are all smiles! The next thing I know, we are all sitting back, laughing, and having a good time discussing various topics. After the interview, when I am reading through the heart-felt, handwritten feedback cards they left for me, I am astonished. The most rewarding thing that they got from this event is not hearing about my career experiences or anything related to the competition. What stirred their coffee the most is how to face job-market challenges as an introvert. That’s when it hits me: I am going to write a book about this!
When I took the Myers-Briggs personality test, my introversion index result was 96 percent. I was an introvert to a tee! Whenever I step into an elevator, I immediately press the close button to prevent some random person from joining me within a split second. When it comes to choosing between washing the dishes and taking out the trash, I always opt for the former because taking the trash out carries the risk of running into strangers, or worse, people I actually know. These are just a couple of examples of my own introversion. If I were to give a much more in-depth description of my particular habits, I think I could probably turn it into a movie longer than the entire The Fast and the Furious (F&F) franchise using just my personal experience for the plot. The lives of introverts actually do resemble F&F—we’re affected by so many different kinds of stimuli all the time.
My brother, an extroverted Libra, often chides me, asking, “What’s the big deal with you and your neighbors? All you have to do is just say ‘hi,’ or you can just ignore them!” Extroverts are often oblivious to the tangled-up mentalities that introverts have to work with. It’s like extroverts are playing the role of a planet with several protective atmospheric layers—they’re completely incapable of understanding or are oblivious to the fact that they’re fully protected from the constant barrage of social-situation meteorites.
In crime stories, reporters often inquire about a person by interviewing their neighbors, former teachers, work colleagues, and others to get a description of their personality and appearance. If such a report focused on me, my neighbors would say something along the lines of “She’s a total shut-in, probably very difficult to get along with. I don’t know, we never talked, not even the simplest ‘hello!’” I always think of this scenario, but I just don’t have enough energy saved up to worry about what others think.
The lives of introverts are sometimes a terrifying horror show. On the outside, we might appear as if everything’s fine and there’s not a single rain cloud in sight to ruin our day, but in fact, our minds are like a theater showing powerful dark forces, and the sights and sounds of thunder and lightning are never-ending.
From the classroom to the job market, introverts like me are called upon to carry themselves as extroverts. Classmates and coworkers who can smile all day long and say the right things are instantly praised, but people who are shy or reserved, like a child who doesn’t like speaking, for example, are often seen as rude and without manners or even, perhaps, improperly brought up by their parents.
Introverts need employment, just like everyone else, and nearly every job I’ve had has been introvert hell. Once, when I was attending a formal dinner banquet, I was under so much pressure that my entire body broke out in hives and I had to be rushed to a hospital. As the doctor was giving me a shot to reduce the swelling, he said he was shocked. He’d never seen such a serious case of hives. Another time, I was blamed for something I didn’t do, and I couldn’t fight back; I ended up breaking down into tears as I was talking on the phone next to a high-end shopping mall in Taipei’s bustling, go-getting Xinyi district.
However, in the first half of my career, I still wouldn’t wave my white flag in defeat. I spared no effort to forcibly mold myself into the image of a radiant, victorious little worker-drone who everyone liked. I desperately wanted to become the kind of person anyone could call their bestie at any time without it being awkward; I wanted to be a gifted speaker who always had the right words, someone who is always perceived as being pleasant to be around. I spent a lot of effort putting up a front—a protective suit of armor for myself. I welded on all the ideal quality labels that everyone seemed to love so much; I was “lively,” “cheerful,” “pleasant,” “positive,” “full of energy,” and so on. Although this armor was getting heavier and heavier, because it was my protection and because it seemed like it was what everyone liked and wanted, I kept miserably donning it. I kept at it all the way up until I went on a trip to Malaysia, during which I read through Susan Cain’s book, Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking. I was so moved that I read that book three times during that five-day trip! In the process of reading, I often had to stop myself, lift my head, and just breathe deeply. What shook me to my core was that I finally realized that I wasn’t any worse than anyone else; I was just different.
Mainstream values in society often tend to come as single standards: we have beauty standards and standards of success, and only one type of personality is referred to as “normal.” We’re all trying to become that one standard, but while doing so, we forget the person we really are deep inside. When I realized and absorbed all of this, I decided to leave my job, the one that everyone on the sidelines thought was such a sweet gig. I threw myself fully into nonprofit work, which is what I feel passionate about, contributing to what I think is important and meaningful to Taiwan. I decided to never again hide my own introversion. I decided to figure out who I really was and dig out my strong points so I could allow them to complement my introversion.
Nowadays, I still have a suit of armor, but it’s much more functional. It’s lightweight, it fits me better, and I can wear it when I really need to. I can even proudly shout out to the world that “I’m an introvert!” and still feel fully content and at peace. My point is that my work has been influenced by these changes: I was able to find my own groove and I was able to get a promotion within a short period of time after having started my new career. In my wildest dreams, I never thought I would be able to work for an international organization and manage the operations for several countries.
When I think back on my previous self, I am reminded of the confusion displayed by the group of college-aged women who interviewed me and their trepidation about the job market. They remarked that they hoped they could be brave and gentle but determined just like I am. That’s not what I want for them, though. I hope they can get in touch with who they really are and just be themselves. They don’t need to waste so much time and effort, like I did, only to end up back on the path that was originally laid out before them.
Many of the stories in this book are my own experiences. For introverts like me who focus a lot on maintaining their privacy, it takes a lot of guts to be this honest and open. When I found out that my name and my picture were going to be on the cover of the book, I felt so terrified, and still do, even to this day. But if I can help other introverts in any way with this book, or if it helps more people understand their introverted colleagues, friends, loved ones, and so on, then it’ll be worth all the embarrassment!