I’ve come to an uncomfortable conclusion. It turns out that… well… I’m quite boring. I always had some suspicions of this but I’d had enough social success to be able to brush those concerns under a convenient nearby carpet. But just lately, that’s not worked and I’ve got to admit what I’m quickly realising to be true: I’m just not that interesting to talk to.
The problem starts with the fact that I am naturally very introverted. And while I’m perfectly fine with old friends and people I’ve gotten comfortable with, I become only more introverted when I am in social situations which are new or unfamiliar — and that’s pretty much what they all are after you’ve just up and moved to another country. So, being outgoing and interesting under those circumstances was always going to be a challenge for me, but… well, I thought I could get past that. After all, I’ve moved before. Hell, I’ve moved countries before!
Y’know, I used to have interesting things to talk about. I used to know what’s going on in the world, have opinions, have angles on stuff. Now… I’m a stay-at-home mum to two kids, one with allergies that have severely shrunk our social options, and I spend most of my week cleaning messes, keeping the household running, and interacting with only two other adults — one of whom is so exhausted at the end of the day that he’s often asleep within 30 minutes of finishing dinner.
And so, when I finally break free and get the opportunity to out for a while in the company of Other People, I suddenly find that I just don’t have that much of interest to talk about. My daughters dominate my conversation in much the same way they dominate my life, and I find myself going on and on about them regardless of whether my listeners are likely to be interested. And then, without realising it, I find I’ve turned the conversation to the allergies because… well, they overshadow my day-t0-day life so much that it’s as if my mind can’t shake free from them even for a few minutes. Is the other person interested in the difficulties of avoiding our laundry list of allergens? Probably not at all, but still I can’t seem to stop myself, even as it begins to dawn on me that I’m boring my listeners.
And so I abruptly try to change subjects but, to my dismay, I realise the cupboard is bare. As I stand there trying to think of something — anything — to talk about, I draw a complete blank. I’ve nothing to offer. Even turning the conversation toward the other person and asking questions instead — that time-honoured short cut to being a good conversationalist — can only go so far before it starts to feel a bit stalker-ish.
And then I’m done for. I’m outta tricks. And one of two things happens: either the conversation grinds to an uncomfortable halt and we both start looking around for someone else to slink away to or… or… I suddenly try to save the situation by overcompensating and going back to my standard subjects (the girls, allergies) and just running wild with it, talking a mile a minute, trying to fill up the air with words and words and words. It’s not good.
One more thing: I’ve realised I’m just out of step with the whole rhythm of social conversation over here. The rules I follow are British (specifically rural working-class British) and they just don’t work here. What is PC there is most certainly not PC here. What comes quite naturally out my mouth doesn’t work at all — it’s all too risqué or too straight or too lewd or too dour. So I fall back on humour — a last ditch, gut reaction attempt to save a dying situation — and being humour with that extra u, I find to my horror that what seems hilarious to me suddenly falls completely flat. I go home berating myself. Why did I say that? Why did I open my mouth? And what happened to all the stuff I used to talk about?
And when did I become so boring?!?
Stumble it!
I have a feeling you’re going to receive many comments on this post telling you that you are wrong: You are not boring. Not at all.
My (albeit relatively few) conversations with you have always been interesting, and you’re terribly funny. I just wish we lived closer and/or were less busy so that we could hang out more.
I’m naturally introverted and if I’m not ‘out’ a lot it gets harder and harder. It’s easier the more practice I get, but if I’m tired I struggle to pull myself up and into a conversation.
But if I get stuck, I just ask loads of questions of the other person, with follow-up questions. People love it when you show interest in them, and love to talk about their own lives – THAT makes you interesting (and sometimes unique!)
Like most insecurity, I think you’re worrying about nothing. I don’t usually hang out in parking lots until 12:30 in the morning talking to people who are boring…
Ah…. ah…. yes, Julia, you are quite right that I will probably get a lot of comments trying to reassure me, but that is/was not my intention. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a nice thing for people to do, but this was less to be a pity-party and more to be an exploration of something that has really taken me by surprise. That’s what this blog is — an exporation of the things that happen in my life and, specifically, the things I struggle with. And, after years of being able to trust myself to just walk into a social situation and be able to hold my own, I am really taken aback to discover that I simply can’t rely on myself to do that anymore.
So, I am grateful for the reassurance — really I am — but I don’t want this to be (or to seem to be) me fishing for people to say nice things to me. To prevent that (and show sincerity), I might close comments on this one post — I hope you all understand.
Sarah, I agree about the asking questions! It’s my fallback now, but I do find I have to take to the point of starting to sound a bit obsessive. What happens is I realise I’m going down those same boring avenues, I change and start asking questions, they answer, and I jump in with… anecdotes about my kids and/or allergies again (because, to be fair, conversations are two way things). Then I realise that I’m going *there* again, and try to stop by asking more questions… it reaches a point where it’s weird… unnatural… forced… I’m concentrating on NOT talking about my kids/allergies so much that the whole conversation goes weird. It’s hard to explain but, trust me, I need to work on this tactic before I can rely on it to save the day.
Julia, the only reason you think I’m funny is because you’re sick enough to hang out at LSG.
My sense of humour fits in just fine there (it’s a bit tame, actually), but when I trot it out amongst normal people… uh-oh.
Also you are under the mistaken impression that I am not boring only because my key topics (toddlers & medical condition) match what is key in your life too. So, honestly, I do love talking with you (yes! I wish we lived closer too!) but, with most of the rest of population, my conversational offerings fall a lot flatter.
Natalie, we both know you’d stepped on a big wad of gum and were actually just stuck where you stood!
I’ve got the perfect state for you… ALASKA. I travelled to Alaska summer of 91 and worked with the Eskimo children. We were told that when visiting in an Eskimo’s home try not to feel uncomfortable with the silence. No need to fill the silence with words. Eskimos just enjoy your presence.
And there’s my British way of trying to humour you.
I don’t think I’m boring, but I think I’m probably more boring than I used to be. I attribute it to this phase of life, but maybe it’s a permanent thing!
I hope you haven’t closed comments – I won’t try to make you feel better, even though we have met!
I, too, am an introvert, probably not as much so as you, but still an introvert. I can remember that feeling, like when my second child was 10 months old, we loved way out in the country and I didn’t see anyone but the kids, the cows and, oh, yes, the husband – for days on end! I was so boring, and I felt it keenly when I started back to work part-time.
Maybe boring isn’t the right word…maybe it’s that feeling that your life has changed SO much that all the stuff that used to feel like second nature just doesn’t ‘fit’ any more, or you don’t care about it all any more because you have so many other more important things in your life. (And I am speaking a general ‘you’ here, as in you, me, or anyone else who has ever felt this way.
Maybe that’s why certain types of forums (fora?) are so popular, especially for younger women who have kids, whether they’re stay at home moms or not. I used to feel really boring hanging around with people who didn’t have kids my age – it seemed we had nothing in common. I suppose it may work the same when you go to a knitting night?
Anyway, interesting topic…(and I’m a scintillating, exciting, non-boring person these days! My tongue still ties on a regular basis and I have no clue what to talk about in some social situations…sigh.)
I’m boring too. Always have been. I blame it on being a twin. My sister is a true extrovert, life of the party girl. I was just along for the ride.
Friends – real, honest, true friends – aren’t all incredibly exciting and interesting. At least, that’s not what makes them true friends. Not everyone runs at 90 mph; and anyways, how exhausting would that be to keep up with?
I find you perfectly charming, but then see above. Now I can’t wait to see you again so you can say something “inappropriately” lewd and risque. How exciting is THAT?!
Just be yourself, Strawb. Don’t worry about what people think. That way, you’ll be more comfortable and so will other people, who will pick up that you’re being genuine.
If people thought you were boring, they wouldn’t be reading your blog. The fact that you’re so open and honest in a way that many people can’t be is interesting and compelling. So, stop analyzing how you think other people might see you. It’s impossible to get it right anyway.
I tend to talk too much about type 1 diabetes. People talk about what they’re thinking about. I may bore people and I may not. I try to shut up if I’m carrying on and I can see someone’s eyes glazing over. I like hearing about peoples’ lives, so I try to ask questions and get them talking too. One way you get to know people is to hear about their lives and what they do day-to-day.
I wouldn’t suggest that you write if I thought no one wanted to hear what you have to say.
Everyone is boring! LOL! That’s why we’re so enthralled with celebrity’s lives! I go on and on about my dogs – I even bore myself!!!! You’re just…normal!!!!
We are all little packages of our experiences. We talk about them. I am just like you in that regard, though a lot older than you. You’d think after living more than 61 years on this earth, and having vacationed 8 times in the UK (and I KNOW how you must miss that place!!!) I’d have something to talk about, but no. I clam up in public. I talk about my chronic pain that affects every minute of my life, but I know no one really wants to know about it. It’s just what we are experiencing, that we talk about. It’s hard being a human. My dogs have no problem with not having anything to say!
Love that last line by Bex.
I should add that while I was spending 24/7 caring for my Mother-in-law who had stage 4 Alziemers…I was a pretty boring person to talk to also. And also during those 6 months when I was caring for my Border Collie whom we lost to leukaemia.
Whatever fills our days, fills our thoughts and sometimes it’s hard to think of anything else to say.
And by the way… you’re such a boring person I come here every day to see what new boring thing you have written about.
This post made me want to invite you out to the movies, just a couple of introverts out together!