As a kid, for example, I felt guilty for never wanting to have sleepovers at my house, because another person in my bedroom -my childhood sanctuary- seemed like a major invasion of my private world, where I often spent time drawing, writing, practicing make-up and hairstyles, or playing with my Barbie dolls.
In middle school I was often reprimanded by most teachers in most classes for making "careless mistakes." Little did they know - little did I know! - that one of the qualities of being an introvert is that our brains are slower at processing new concepts. I often needed more time during a test to thoroughly process test questions, or I needed more time to learn a math concept, for example. Instead, I rushed through tests so I'd never be the last to finish, and therefore be thought of as "stupid." But having a difficult time understanding new concepts made me feel stupid anyway, and I never asked questions because I didn't want to be guilty for holding the class back if I was the only student who couldn't understand something.
In high school, I felt guilty for wanting to stay in by myself on most weekend nights to order pizza and watch John Hughes movies on VHS when all my friends and classmates were at parties or on dates. I also felt inadequate because I could only handle one or two extracurricular activities at a time since I was already so exhausted from being around people during the school day. Time spent doing anything more would've further eclipsed my treasured alone time.
As an adult, I've felt guilty in romantic relationships for craving copious amounts of alone time. I've felt guilty for turning down invites from friends a few too many times simply because I had already reached my threshold for people during the work week.
Most recently, I have felt guilty in my career for getting "peopled out" so easily. The point of my job is to help people -ideally as many as possible!- and yet I usually can't find it within myself to go the extra mile on most days.
So is the coworker who has boundless energy to disperse to not only his clients, but also the other members of the gym better than I am at my job? I have the education, I have the confidence, I have the experience, yet at the end of most days I feel like I failed because even though I came across hundreds of people that day, I didn't talk to anyone except my clients and coworkers.
We are always being encouraged at work to "smile and chat with members" when we are not training a client, but I find it necessary to conserve my energy for my clients. Extroverts are coveted by management at my gym. Social butterflies are favored for making themselves known to everyone. But for me, sometimes I just can't bring myself to force a smile or muster a hello. Not that I don't ever do this. I do it as much as I possibly can before my internal battery dies. I give the gym all of my energy so that nothing is left when I leave at night. I have no friends and no social life because I give all of myself at work. Otherwise, guilt would overwhelm me.
A client recently shared that I seemed a bit off during a prior session. I recalled that I usually train him during a quiet hour at the gym, and the session he was referring to just happened to be a time when the gym was exceptionally busy. I do not enjoy training my clients when the gym is loud and crowded, but I dig deep to do whatever it takes to make the most of it. My senses are overloaded and I find it hard to focus, and I have to raise my voice to be heard over the chaos, all of which drains me as quickly as an iPhone with too many apps running simultaneously.
Even though I understood why I must have seemed off, I felt guilty about it. Introverts are overstimulated easily, and I can't simply tune out the activity going on around me. But until my client mentioned something, I thought for sure I was fooling everyone.
That brings me to my next point. Why should I feel so damn guilty for being who I am and responding to the world the way I respond to it? Why do I feel so guilty admitting that, despite loving my job, the environment in which I do my job is unsatisfactory? Essentially, why do I feel so guilty for not being an extrovert?
If I'm not churning out over 100 personal training sessions a month, it's because the more sessions I do, the less valuable they will be. I'll never be exceptionally ambitious or be able to take on too much because doing so would be too taxing for my temperament and therefore would never make me happy, so what's the fucking point of doing what I love in that case?
But how could I ever explain this to my manager without sounding slightly ridiculous in a world that deeply favors extroverts? Personally, I will only ever be successful if I focus on quality over quantity. Unfortunately, that's not gonna fly at my place of employment.
So, I have this crazy idea that if I become an independent trainer, then things will be different. If I work in a studio exclusive to personal trainers and their clients, then I will be in the calmer environment I crave so much. The quality of service that I'd be able to provide to my clients simply by changing my environment will be so much richer. And I won't ever again be told to smile and chat with members when the thought of a forced smile and small talk instinctively make me snarl.
When I worked in an office for ten years I was isolated for most of the day, and the past four years I have thrown myself into a completely contrasting environment. I'll admit that I had trouble communicating with people before I became a trainer, so even though I'm now totally overwhelmed by people on most days, I'm tremendously thankful I've had plenty of practice and experience interacting with a variety of personalities.
Everything in my being is craving some serious balance, which I have not yet been able to achieve my entire adult life. I already enjoy my work, but I need to do it differently for the sake of my sanity. I'd like to maybe not feel too drained all the time and have the occasional social interaction outside of work. That's not a lot to ask, and I won't apologize for going after what I want.
We are always being encouraged at work to "smile and chat with members" when we are not training a client, but I find it necessary to conserve my energy for my clients. Extroverts are coveted by management at my gym. Social butterflies are favored for making themselves known to everyone. But for me, sometimes I just can't bring myself to force a smile or muster a hello. Not that I don't ever do this. I do it as much as I possibly can before my internal battery dies. I give the gym all of my energy so that nothing is left when I leave at night. I have no friends and no social life because I give all of myself at work. Otherwise, guilt would overwhelm me.
A client recently shared that I seemed a bit off during a prior session. I recalled that I usually train him during a quiet hour at the gym, and the session he was referring to just happened to be a time when the gym was exceptionally busy. I do not enjoy training my clients when the gym is loud and crowded, but I dig deep to do whatever it takes to make the most of it. My senses are overloaded and I find it hard to focus, and I have to raise my voice to be heard over the chaos, all of which drains me as quickly as an iPhone with too many apps running simultaneously.
Even though I understood why I must have seemed off, I felt guilty about it. Introverts are overstimulated easily, and I can't simply tune out the activity going on around me. But until my client mentioned something, I thought for sure I was fooling everyone.
That brings me to my next point. Why should I feel so damn guilty for being who I am and responding to the world the way I respond to it? Why do I feel so guilty admitting that, despite loving my job, the environment in which I do my job is unsatisfactory? Essentially, why do I feel so guilty for not being an extrovert?
If I'm not churning out over 100 personal training sessions a month, it's because the more sessions I do, the less valuable they will be. I'll never be exceptionally ambitious or be able to take on too much because doing so would be too taxing for my temperament and therefore would never make me happy, so what's the fucking point of doing what I love in that case?
But how could I ever explain this to my manager without sounding slightly ridiculous in a world that deeply favors extroverts? Personally, I will only ever be successful if I focus on quality over quantity. Unfortunately, that's not gonna fly at my place of employment.
So, I have this crazy idea that if I become an independent trainer, then things will be different. If I work in a studio exclusive to personal trainers and their clients, then I will be in the calmer environment I crave so much. The quality of service that I'd be able to provide to my clients simply by changing my environment will be so much richer. And I won't ever again be told to smile and chat with members when the thought of a forced smile and small talk instinctively make me snarl.
When I worked in an office for ten years I was isolated for most of the day, and the past four years I have thrown myself into a completely contrasting environment. I'll admit that I had trouble communicating with people before I became a trainer, so even though I'm now totally overwhelmed by people on most days, I'm tremendously thankful I've had plenty of practice and experience interacting with a variety of personalities.
Everything in my being is craving some serious balance, which I have not yet been able to achieve my entire adult life. I already enjoy my work, but I need to do it differently for the sake of my sanity. I'd like to maybe not feel too drained all the time and have the occasional social interaction outside of work. That's not a lot to ask, and I won't apologize for going after what I want.
