As I said before, all introverts need a ducky or two, those wonderful people who balance our excessive need to hyper-analyze. The Yang to our Yin. But, perhaps I shouldn’t speak so generally. For me, duckies are the ones who release me from paralysis. Without them, I stagnate in my comfortable cocoon. They provide a judgement-free zone that frees my tormented mind.
Duckies have always taken on a bit of rock star aura in my eyes. They jump right in as if they belonged, have no doubt of their welcome and ignore nuanced reactions that would send me scuttling back to my den. They are like mythological heroes, larger than life, ten-foot tall and bulletproof. I follow in their wake, starry eyed, close enough to their orbit to float along their gravitational pull.
But perhaps I am crossing up extroverts with those just comfortable in their own skin. A ducky can be an extrovert but just because someone’s an extrovert it doesn’t make them a ducky.
My husband’s a ducky. An introverted ducky. Very little rattles him and if it does, it’s not for long. He’s learned to waterproof his feathers so the slings and arrows of life do not penetrate.
I’ve had extroverted friends who are duckies. I would sit back and shake my head at how unaware they were of other’s reactions. How could they not see? But, who was the happier? It certainly wasn’t me.
But, extroverts have many friends and eventually, I get pushed out of the gravitational field. Or I linger too long along the edge and fall off. Probably more that latter. Because, and here’s the secret of the introvert, nothing feels better than canceling plans.
So how’s an introvert to maintain relationships with her duckies?