“Have you ever heard the wonderful silence just before the dawn? Or the quiet and calm just as a storm ends? Or perhaps you know the silence when you haven’t the answer to a question you’ve been asked, or the hush of a country road at night, or the expectant pause of a room full of people when someone is just about to speak, or, most beautiful of all, the moment after the door closes and you’re alone in the whole house? Each one is different, you know, and all very beautiful if you listen carefully.” – Norton Luster

As a child, I grew up with extroverted parents. I found myself surrounded by people who found comfort in spoken words, and viewed silence as a treacherous and inhumane quality, but to their alarm; I turned out to be a quiet and thoughtful introvert.

My silence always caused me to be viewed as an outsider, an aberration, a person that needed to be changed. My silence was misunderstood by my friends, my family, and even by the vast majority of strangers. I thought I needed to metamorphose into a different creature, one that was alien to my nature, because people made me think that I was “broken”, that my silence would stop me from making friends, being successful, from changing the world and helping people.

For years I tried to reach out of my comfort zone; experience new things. I would put myself through situations of discomfort, social states I felt unnecessary to cope with, but no matter how hard I tried, I knew that I was never going to be like my extroverted companions. These thoughts and feelings hovered in my head, shrouding the truth, and causing uncertainty to surge.

These feelings continued happening for years, and as I ventured through the initial path of adolescence, they worsened. My classmates and friends would only identify me for my quietness, as if that was the only thing that represented me. The words “oh…you are so quiet”, were always said with an ignominious tone. Society and the media were only worsening the situation, but a few a years ago, I understood the value of my introversion, my silence, and my soft heart, and I stopped feeling the need to change one of the things that essentially made me who I am.

After sixteen years, I wholly take pride in being an introvert, and therefore, feel the need to help those that feel the way I did. If like me, you find comfort in your thoughts, do not consider it worrying, instead marvel at your ideas and simply ponder on the awe-inspiring fact of being. Our lack of words does not mean that we do not have valuable thoughts, and if you consider something to be too valuable to share at a given moment, then feel the freedom to remain silent. In spite of the common belief, words do not always change the world, they do not make people fall in love, and they do not necessarily represent happiness; actions and feelings do. Do not be daunted by someone’s words, and even though you may be caught up in your head, struck the world with the precise words needed at a given moment, because it’s not the quantity, but the quality that make a remarkable difference.

Admire the beauty, wonder, and necessity of extroverts without questioning your own, because without the personality differences, the world would not function properly. Let your silence spark your creativity, bring out the real being that has been hiding within your soul, and once you do so, explore your passion and change the world, without allowing the world to change the things that essentially make you who you are, because if you do not use your introversion for great things, then who will?

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