Misanthropic, social skill-lacking, self-absorbed narcissists are loving the “no no, I’m not an asshole, I’m an Introvert” bandwagon.
If you consider other people troublesome interruptions of your 24/7 “me time,” that’s your business, but it’s not just an equally good or maybe even better way of being.
But all introverts are misanthropic, self-absorbed, anti-social loners with zero social skills; whereas all extraverts are loud, pushy, overbearing attention whores with zero tact.
And no one, anywhere, falls between these extremes.
Also, the two groups are forever locked in mortal combat.
Seeing as how they were in my own family, I would have been pleased as punch to be included. It sure would have been preferable to being forced to spend hours, days or weeks at a time with people who already had their group set up and were not about to include someone they “didn’t really know” and couldn’t be bothered to get to know. Now, of course, I’m an adult with free will, but back then it was extremely demoralizing.
And the funny thing is, the people who did give me a chance were the ones you’d think would really have no use for me. Like one set of cousins who were all older, all boys, and all hardcore athletes. But I guess they’d always wanted a sister, so they accepted me. And my uncle’s stepdaughters, who were from Long Island and had money coming out of their ears. You’d think they’d look down on someone who was middle-class from rural New Jersey. But we were in the same age group, so I guess that’s all that mattered to them. Other relatives, though, had already made up their minds, and there was nothing I could do. If I tried to socialize, I was a “pest”. If I kept to myself, I was “anti-social”.
The Groucho quote doesn’t apply, because that’s about someone who is so hooked on rejection, they’ll create it if it doesn’t already exist. And that’s not me as an adult. Nowadays, if I don’t make it with one group, I move on to find people who will accept me. But back then, I didn’t have a choice.
I often hoped to marry into a big family. Unfortunately, Mr. Rilch is an only child, and his mother is an only child, and his father has one brother…you get the idea. But a friend of ours, who I’ll call Bob because that is his name, found out that that’s not always the answer. He has only sisters, and when he married a woman with three brothers, he thought he had it made. Unfortunately, his BILs have never and will never accept him. Besides that he’s the one who “stole” Little Princess away, he’s not from the right part of the country, his people are not from the right country of origin, he doesn’t practice the right religion, and he’s not even in the right line of work. So he’ll never be one of them. And to top it off, his oldest son thinks Uncle Firstborn is the bomb. Wants to be just like him. Argh.
Sub-zero social skills wins:FATALITY.