Chapter 81. What I’ve Learned about Myself

I have to say that over the years I haven’t given myself much thought.  A door opened, I walked through.  Met a person I liked, hoped they liked me back.  I fell into a career quite by accident and it worked out.  Very well.  I loved every minute of 50+ years in the nonprofit sector with 10 as a lobbyist.  

Throughout my life, I put myself forward.  I led organizations, found solutions, had ideas.  I was an impulsive person so I easily accepted challenges.  A child from Nicaragua needed safe haven?  Sure, we’ll take her in.  What a good decision that was!  A Newfoundland dog needed rescue. We ended up with 7 over 40 years. How we loved that breed. Adults in cancer treatment weren’t having fun.  I created an organization that did just that. We helped 25,000 people enjoy activities over abut 20 years. My passion for ideas could be explosive and contagious.  I never sat down and planned anything.  I could for others, for other organizations, but never, ever for myself.  Even travel was a spontaneous event.  We ended up in South Africa because I decided to bid on a safari offered in a live auction.  We once took a trip to London because I couldn’t get a route to Los Angeles with the miles I had.  So, I never thought about myself, how I appeared to people.  I knew people either liked me or didn’t.  I didn’t much care or think about why.

And now, one year after our move to Everleigh, I’ve had the time to think about myself.

Some of it’s good.  Some not so much.

I’m extraordinarily impatient with humans (but I excel with animals). Opinionated.   Judgmental.  (That sounds like a Yom Kippur atonement prayer.)  These were attributes that served me well in the work world.  I was able to establish a goal and see it through efficiently.  If I needed funding, I found it.  If I needed different staffing, I recruited it.  I would make judgment about an employee or colleague quickly and it likely didn’t change with time.  

But these are not attributes that serve me so well as a retired old lady living in a 55+ community.  Example:  GB moves very slowly.  He always has but now much more so.  I truly can’t walk as slowly as he does so I’m always walking ahead of him which, frankly, defeats the purpose of taking a walk with him.  The only time we’re walking at the same pace is when we take Monkey in her little stroller and we both hold on to the handle.  It’s an odd-looking thing to see two old people maneuvering an even older dog down the block.  GB deserves more patience from me, and I vow to become that, but it just doesn’t seem to come to fruition.

Opinionated.  Judgmental.  Here’s the sad part.  I really try to temper my opinions but they blather out regardless.  Denver is notoriously liberal, woke, politically correct, progressive.  In fact, Denverites just tossed out a progressive liberal congresswoman for a younger more progressive, more woke choice.  So, my conservative thoughts are not usually welcomed in polite society.  This all makes me a little annoyed because I would think liberals would want to know why conservatives think the way we do.  The caveat:  I am a never-Trumper.  I left the GOP the day he was nominated for President in 2016.  I’m just a person who thinks government isn’t all that efficient in most cases; too big; spends too much.  I’m not a Libertarian.  I want roads, Social Security, Medicare (managed rather well, I have to say, by the government).  I want regulation, just less of it.  In short, I’m classic middle-right.  A person without a political party.  At any rate, people probably don’t ask my opinions because I give them freely anyway.  Why buy the cow if you can get the milk for free?

I’m learning to live with these personality traits that evolved from helpful to annoying.  The one that most interests me is my introversion.

I have identified as an extrovert my entire life.  I’ve known that I wasn’t, but I kept it closeted because being an introvert didn’t serve me well if I was in the public realm.

I first noted my introversion when I was traveling with my friend Wendy and a group of women.  I always wanted a private room.  They would stay up and drink and talk into the wee hours.  I went to bed.  One time we were all in a cabin in the mountains.  I became so stressed by the constant companionship; I left and returned to Denver.  My excuse was back pain.   The truth was a panic attack.  

While we lived in our home, I could manage my introversion.  We’d go out, mingle, and I could come home and be by myself.  

But now it’s a bit more challenging.  And I must admit that the challenge is fun.  I like figuring out how much mingling I can take before I go back to the apartment, read, write, binge tv (there is no end to dark, European murders), cook.  I love the diversity of groups and people at Everleigh, the dog group, the book group, the movie group, the pool group, the Water Brigade, the weekly Wine-Down group, the poker group on Thursday afternoons.  Both GB and I are making new friends and engaging in things we’ve not done for years.  GB is golfing once a week.  I’m playing poker.  We have a weekly wine/appetizer event on Wednesday afternoons called Wine-Down.  It’s jammed with old people piling their plates high.  I spend thirty minutes chatting.  GB spends two hours.  That’s because he is a true extrovert.  He loves the engagement.  He shines at asking people questions about themselves and being patient enough to listen to the answers.

And that’s where he and I are so very different.  I’ll ask people questions but then run out of patience if the answer is too long.  Is that my introversion or am I just rude.

I guess both.