Hello there, friend,
I read Susan Cain's Quiet two summers ago. I remember having it in my hands as we drove to the lake house, and reading parts of it aloud to my husband. I kept insisting that I was an introvert and he couldn't be convinced. After taking the Myers-Briggs test again that same summer, it turns out I am an INFJ, a special breed of introvert that looks a lot like a typical extrovert but deeply needs to recharge in solitude. He still couldn't be convinced, and I dropped the subject.
Then the other night, we were standing in the kitchen making some popcorn for an after dinner snack and he said to me, "I never realized I was an introvert, but I really think I am." I was both taken aback and relieved.
He has come to accept that I sometimes need to go to our bedroom and shut the door, especially if I've been on my own with the kids for days on end. What I failed to realize is that he needs something similar, a chance to be alone to recharge, to get his bearings again so he can go on. In the chaos of our everyday, in the comings and the goings, isn't it good to know these things? It certainly makes it easier to take care of each other.
xo,
L
