Having started in on this theory of mine, I realize that it is far more multidimensional than last I checked.  In fact, like a character in one of my novels, it has started to grow a personality of it’s own.  I’m beginning to wonder if I’ll ever be free of it now that I’ve given it a voice, but really, do I want to?  After all, it is a part of me and I of it.

Today though, I feel compelled to take a moment to point out the biggest flaw in my own plan.  While I have adapted to a world largely run by extroverts with my handy “umbrella”, at the end of the day there is no escaping that it can keep me from what I want nearly as well as it can help get me through a long day full of required small talk.


The greatest flaw is that sometimes I am a little too good at opening my umbrella and convincing people that I am as easy going as society might demand.  It makes for a much easier job, and I truly love when I can find common ground with people.  Just the other day, by engaging in my own method of projecting that piece of me that I have decided to share with everyone, I found a fellow German.  (I will dedicate a post some day soon to how the Umbrella Theory just might stem from this very noticeable difference between me and most everyone around me).  If I had been the anti-social person that my core often demands, I would never have known.  Instead, I was able to chat for fifteen minutes – and not be exhausted! – about our mutual homeland.

Did this lady think me social? Yes.  Did she think me an extrovert?  Probably.  But what happens when I instead relate to a fellow introvert by this crafted projection?  Does that introvert think me the extrovert?  And if there is mutual attraction, does he think I’m the one to make the first move?

At thirty years old and still single, I would have to think that there is some logic to my dilemma.  Pinterest tells me that the true match to an INTJ is an extrovert who won’t take no for an answer.  While those same extroverts have asked me out, and I have developed relationships with a few, it is the fellow introverts that hold onto my heart for the longest.  And either I have the singularly worst timing on the face of the planet, or I am too good at presenting a side of me that is only a drop in the bucket.

So I have to ask myself, is it my taste in men?  While I enjoyed my time with the extroverts, I never felt my heart ripped to shreds.  Or is it because I fall hardest for those who are like me and seek a quiet connection, but in the midst of reaching out to the world, I give them the wrong impression?

And in the end, does this make it all one giant con?

Oy, I think I need a drink now.