A classic introvert

This is how someone described me to my husband recently. As if he doesn't already know me much better than that. Nothing makes my blood boil more than a statement like this, of being summed up in a few tiny words. My whole life I have struggled with being a quiet person with so much to say. Sure life would be easier if I could just bubble and spill forth my emotions at will, but that just wouldn't be me now would it. It hasn't always been easy living in a world that thinks if you are quiet that you have nothing to say. I doubt most of my close friends and family would call be shy, but there it is. Not to mention that being quiet, shy, choosy with words and people generally gets treated like a modern day affliction. What was once a character trait, offset by advantages such as being sensitive, thoughtful, tactful and comfortable with ones self, is now treated like a disease. There are books and drugs out there all designed to make us quiet ones feel like there is something wrong with us. A lot of times it can be a reaction to being in an uncomfortable or new situation. Being around people too loud to listen. (Where is the self help book on that?) I felt side blasted by this commentary on myself even though I should be used to it by now and not care. But these are the pages that followed, not what I started out to make that day, but visual proof that, yes, I have much to say.