I am a loud introvert
There, I said it.
My entire life I was told I was an extrovert, and I agreed — after all, I don’t appear shy, and am usually fairly talkative.
People saw an outgoing, social person, but what they didn’t see were the after-effects. If I spent more than a couple of hours socializing, I would get home and do two things:
I would experience a high degree of retrospective social anxiety, going over every interaction in my mind, critiquing every word I said. Did I talk too much? Did I say the wrong things?
Then, I would crash. Exhausted from hours of masking, being “on”, and trying to read others and adapt based on their responses, I would need a full day to recover.
After so many experiences like this one, I started to withdraw. I was tired of feeling socially inept and burnt out from trying to fit in. After our son was born and I spent more time at home — because newborn — I found solace in the solitude, so I kept on with that trend.
I started calling myself “antisocial”. It turns out I actually have ADHD, anxiety, and am a “loud” introvert. Who knew?
Not me, not until I was 36 years old.
Identity Crisis
I also thought for a while that I didn’t like kids anymore, except for my own. I love kids and am great with kids. I have always worked with children and youth, starting from babysitting as a young teen, volunteering at summer camps, and then getting my CYW diploma and working as a Child & Youth Worker in my twenties. It is a huge part of my life and my identity.
Suddenly spending time in play groups, even dropping my son off and picking him up at daycare, made me feel uncomfortable. When he was little, whenever a new adult entered the room, a group of young children would crowd around to show off their cool sticker or new shirt, speaking loudly and invading personal space.
I thought I didn’t like children anymore, but it turns out I have sensory processing sensitivities. This refers to the tendency of some individuals to process stimuli and information more strongly and deeply than others.
I like children — children are awesome, actually — I just don’t like being crowded, nor being in loud, busy environments.
The benefit of figuring that out is now that I understand why I respond the way I do, I can self-advocate, and I can adapt both my behaviour and my environment to better suit my sensory needs.
For example, if I stop to speak to a group of young children, I might sit in a chair rather than crouching down so I feel less crowded. I can also very gently ask the children to please take turns telling me about their awesome new toys and promise that I will see every single one of them, but one at a time. Children respond really well to this as long as you keep your word.
I can also communicate my needs in a way that makes it about me and not the children, so they don’t internalize or personalize my issues as being their fault. It is a developmentally normal response for children to interpret the behaviour of others as being caused by them.
Feeling a sense of control
My son is now 8, so of course, I speak to him differently than I did when he was 5. He also has ADHD, and he seeks certain sensory input. He loves banging things, which I’ve learned is a huge trigger for me. I hate it.
Instead of yelling “STOP THAT BANGING!” as I used to do, I can now say “buddy, I really don’t like banging, can you please do that outside?” Alternatively, I can move myself to somewhere quieter, or put in my ear buds and listen to some music. To some degree, I can take control over myself and my environment, so that I feel less overstimulated.
What is SPD?
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