An Open Letter to My Extrovert Friends

Dear Well-Loved Extroverts,

We may not be at all the same, but, wow, do I appreciate you.

Yesterday, I heard a woman share about the roots of a sequoia tree, the tallest trees in the world. Interestingly enough, compared to their height, a sequoia tree’s roots don’t go very deep. Instead, they spread out for hundreds of yards around, intertwining with the roots of other sequoias as their trunks grow taller and thicker, reaching up towards the sky. They say that a sequoia tree can’t survive on its own, that it only holds itself upright in the presence of its fellow trees, who braid their roots around it in order to help it stand strong.

You see where this metaphor is going.

Never before has the world needed extroverts the way we need them now. After the last two years of sheltering in place and trying to be responsible in our social interactions, some of us have gotten really comfortable being home all the time. So comfortable that we’ve forgotten it’s not healthy as a long term choice. We need you extroverts to keep inviting us places (and to not give up when we weasel out of your invitations 9 times out of 10). We need you to spread your roots towards us and help us grow strong.

We also want to spread our roots towards you and help you grow. And today, what this introvert wants to give you is permission to not show up.

Yep, you read that right.

You don’t have to go to all the things. You don’t have to be everyone’s best friend. You don’t have to throw all the parties (or even go to all the parties). It is okay if you need to stay home for a little while. It’s okay to say no because you need to focus on the things you and you alone have been called to do. It’s okay to say, “You know what? Right now, I need to do the dishes or prioritize a math lesson or get family time with my kids or clean out my junk drawer or go for a long walk in the desert and actually listen to myself think.” No one can do those things but you.

And I can give you permission to stay home and focus on what you need to do because I know you won’t overdose on alone time and turn into a permanent recluse (like I would). You are wired for connection—and that is wonderful—but it’s also good to remember that you are allowed to not be all things to all people. You are allowed to say no; you are allowed to rest; you are allowed to prioritize the things you legitimately need to get done.

You see, just like I as an introvert need to be reminded that I’ve got to show up and spread my roots and be community, so you as an extrovert need to remember that you’ve got to focus up and grow tall and sometimes say no so that you can do the things that you are called to do (and yes, sometimes that means being still in the quiet of your own mind).

For the introvert, the growing tall is the good part of being a human-sequoia—there’s fresh air and a great view (and no one is in your personal space). But for the extrovert, the spreading roots is where you shine—there’s connection and purpose (and life is a giant hug). But really, we need both. We need connection, but we also need personal growth. We need to grow out towards each other, but we also need to grow up into who God intended us to be as individuals.

So since I preached to the choir and told the introverts to show up, extroverts, here I am giving you permission to stay home. You know, just in case you needed someone to tell you that (who knows: maybe you don’t). Stay home every now and then, if you need to, if that’s what it takes to grow into who God wants you and only you to be. And I promise: the roots of community will still be there by the time you explode back out of your house in a desperate frenzy of socialization. I promise.

Do the quiet work of growing tall. The many other trees you helped to root aren’t going anywhere cool without you (they’re trees—they’re not going anywhere at all—and now the metaphor has broken itself). But seriously: I promise.

Yours,

The person who would have no social life without you