In learning to manage my energy better, I have stumbled upon some magic words. These words are just as effective for extroverts as introverts, but introverts--with our deep listening habits, our hyperawareness, our busy, busy minds--may need them more.
Say these words silently in your head when you feel yourself being sucked into a vortex of other people's demands and expectations. The two versions apply to a variety of situations and nuances.
The magic words are:
Not my responsibility.
Not my problem.
Several readers have written to me about, and I recognize in myself, an oversensitivity to social messages. Not just from loved ones--from pretty much anyone. Our introvert radars pick up all kinds of messages every which way, and too often we feel obligated to respond to them all. Or at least try. Is it any wonder we get exhausted in social situations?
For example: I'm at a dinner party. Things are warming up slowly. Conversation is awkward. An alarm in my head goes off. I must rescue the party! I spring into action, putting on my clown nose and setting plates spinning until everyone is smiling. Then, when everybody else is having fun, I'm exhausted and want to go home.
Was that really my responsibility?
Nope. My only responsibility in any social situation is to be the best me I can: polite, friendly, and pleasant. Interested in interesting people, indifferent to bores and boors. I don't have to entertain anyone, I don't have to listen deeply to everything everyone says, and I'm not responsible for anyone else's good time. What will be will be, and everything will be OK.
Photo by sergis blog via Flickr (Creative Commons)
Oh, and if I don't really want to go a dinner party to begin with, it's not my responsibility to attend. It's my choice. If I choose to decline and somebody's feelings get hurt--well, that's a pity. But if the only problem I have with not going to the dinner party is that someone else has a problem with it, then that's not my problem. It's the other person's problem.
See how that works?
Or consider the chatterbox who corners you with a barrage of words at a party. It's not your responsibility to be her listening machine. Even if your introverted deep thoughts see through her chatter to her insecurity and yearning for connection--again, that's a pity. But it's not your problem. Not unless you think she's on the ledge or you want to fulfill her needs. Otherwise, walk away. Go to the bathroom, where all good introverts hide at parties. She'll live. (Read my friend Irene Levine's helpful tips for managing motormouths.)
These magic words don't work on genuine obligations and legitimate responsibilities. I don't endorse callous behavior, just boundaries. You have to decide where those are. Sometimes boundaries shift in different situations. That's fine. But when you feel your boundaries being stretched to an uncomfortable degree, whisper those magic words.
Not my responsibility.
Not my problem.
And you know their real magic? Used properly, these words can help us enjoy social occasions more than we ever thought possible by plugging unnecessary energy drains: the stuff that is not our responsibility and not our problem.
Copyright 2010 Sophia Dembling
