Extroversion has its benefits, sure—but it's frustrating too. I talk too much.
In kindergarten, this landed me in the "bad chair." (Call it like it is, 1980.) In elementary school, constant chatter earned me time inside writing sentences while other kids recessed. (I have excellent penmanship.) Whispering through geometry = detention (I hear such places are called things like "thinking rooms" these days). See the pattern?
Still, I can't seem to shut up. I have trouble keeping quiet in meetings. I release brain blurts without forming them into full sentences. I say lots of the wrong things. I think I scare people.
Yet, too much talking//oversharing also has served me well. I know a lot about a lot of interesting people. Opening yourself up invites people to open up on. I make new friends. I get great tips. Support and accountability find me.
Just sharing yesterday's blog, one friend suggested that I should start reading Anna Rosenblum Palmer's Shelburbia. (So glad I did. It's awesome writing: real, honest, funny.) Another friend took me to lunch today and told me it was time to face my fears. He's so right. And I left with an action item: This fall, I'm enrolling in high-performance driving school. I've been talking about it for years. Time to shut up and actually do something.