Is my Child Introvert or Highly Sensitive?

Understanding whenever your child is highly sensitive or an introvert can help parents get a better grip on the emotions of a child and how to get the best out of them whilst allowing them to remain true to who they are.

It's a fine line though between introverted and highly sensitive. it can be hard to see the wood from the trees.

I was asked to write a guest post on this topic for The Piri Piri Lexicon and what with it being a topic close to my heart I was delighted to oblige.

Head over to the Piri Piri Lexicon to read about the differences between introvert children and highly sensitive children. And then head back here.....

Is your highly sensitive child introvert or extrovert? Is your introvert highly sensitive? In what ways do you see it?

Awakening the Sleeping Expat Giant

Every now and then I read a blog post or article that inspires me to drop everything and put pen to paper. Aisha Ashraf's piece "Expats are Born, Not Made. Discuss." was one such gem.

"Expats are among those who realise there's more to it - no one HAS to do something they don't want to do for the rest of their life. They're more inclined to consider the previously unconsidered, to look beyond what they know to find answers, to take a leap of faith."

Truth be told I am an unlikely expat. I'm a typical introvert. I'm a homebody. I actually like the outer confines of my comfort zone. Change is no friend of mine.

Photo Credit: Jenny W. (Stock Xchng)

At the age of thirteen, my parents announced, out of the blue, that a move to Manchester was on the cards, just before I was to choose my GCSE subjects. There was an opportunity to move our lives from the south to the north of England. I froze. I can still feel the panic that filled those school going days whilst uncertainty hung above us. My friends, my school, my home - all under threat. Everything I knew could suddenly be pulled out from under me. It was a change I didn't want. I feared starting all over again, building everything back up from nothing. I shed many tears. I spoke angry words. I was relieved when the move didn't go through and life marched on for us 'as you were'.

Yet, a few years later, I chose a university degree course that took me 300 kilometres north of where I lived, away from my family and my home. In fact, I chose a course that would even take me away from my home country for a year.  Away from my base. Away from my comfort zone.

I spent a year in Toulouse, France, studying abroad for the third year of my degree course. I voluntarily packed up my suitcase and left my birth country shores for a temporary cultural immersion in to a life that was barely mine. Cultural water boarding. It was scary. It was enriching. I wanted the year to end. I wanted time to stop, so I could capture all the French cultural nuances, let them course through my body. Become part of me.

Now that I know myself better, understand who I am and accept myself, I am nothing but surprised by my life choices two decades ago. Even the decision I made in 2000 sometimes feels as if it was made by a stranger, a previous version of me.

Where did I get the courage, the idea, the drive, to want to live overseas at the tender age of twenty? There was no nomad trend during my childhood. True I called a number of places home home before my teenage years descended, but we never drifted from the British Isles, despite a chance turned down to move our family to Australia when I was small. There was no hint of an expat life waiting in the wings whilst life played centre stage.

And yet there was a longing to learn foreign languages. I lunged at any modern language course my school offered me; French, German and Italian. Italian was not a formal part of the school curriculum and brought a small group of linguist enthusiasts together in the darkness before school hours. I was the lone pupil from my school who took German A-level, ferried by minibus with the Technology course buffs a couple of times a week to another school in the area. All to quench the thirst for a new language.

Ironic that a girl who doesn't like or need to say much could say so much in other tongues by her early twenties.

Were my teenage choices driven by a romantic view, the image of a culturally richer life than Britain had on offer? Or were my choices a result of some subconscious knowledge of a life destined to be lived abroad? Was I simply preparing myself for the inevitable life as an expat?

Was the seed sown for a life beyond my home territory because of my aptitude for foreign languages? Or did learning new languages open my eyes to a world beyond the one I could see from my Hertfordshire bedroom window?  Was I made into an expat by a life choice? Or did I make a life choice because I was born to be an expat?

Aisha poses a similar question,

"Does travel broaden the mind or does a broad mind lend itself to travel?"

My mind was open, from an early age, to other cultures, other countries, other languages. But that openness goes against the grain of who I am, my personality, my introverted self. I wasn't born to take chances, to step outside of a place I consider safe. But somehow the battle to be expat, to take a leap of faith, to embrace the unknown, was won out by my inner sleeping giant who awoke at just the right time, gave out an ear piercing roar, a wake up call to take a risk that was so out of character. Once satisfied that the right path was started upon, my inner expat giant settled down once more into a peaceful slumber. And has there remained. Content. Job done.

Top Three Posts of 2013: Highly Sensitive Children & Introverts

2013: A year of reaching out and being amazed
by the response
Photo Credit: Sanja Gjenero

As the year draws to a close it's always nice to reflect and think about the last twelve months before moving on to the next year ahead. And so it is too with blogging. It's a great idea to take a peek at the stats and see what has worked, what has pulled people in to the blog…. and for this blog there's a clear and definite popular trend - highly sensitive children and the theme of being an introvert.

1. Parenting a Highly Sensitive Child
2. Being Introvert, Being Me
3. Understanding Highly Sensitive Children

2013 is the year that I started writing about the idea of highly sensitive children (HSC), mainly because it has been a difficult year for our family with regard to schooling for my eldest son, because he is a HSC. I started talking about it, and people started responding in their droves on Twitter, Facebook and on this blog. It was a huge relief to know we weren't the crazy ones, and that we are certainly not alone. It has been an eye opening year, with the creation of a Facebook group for parents of HSC which has been an amazing support during the last few months, not only for me, but for other parents too who find themselves having to make difficult decisions with little support from family and schools - because there is so little understanding for what being highly sensitive actually means. I have also collated HS links and made a page on this blog - that will also be expanded a great deal next year.

Time has been short the last few months, but it's something I will write lots more about  in 2014, to share my own experiences with other parents who are going through the same situation.

As a very short summary, we changed primary schools in September and it was the best decision we could have made. The change has been life changing for us all. My son has found his place, his teachers could not be more understanding and because of that he's a happy little boy again. He does of course have his overload moments still, but don't we all? However, life is very different today than it was a year ago!

A big heartfelt thank you to all of you who have reached out this year, not just on this topic but on all the posts that have been written this year!!

Being Introvert. Being Me.

Since I delved into the world of highly sensitive children I have learnt so much more about myself. Since I became a mother, I have learnt to accept being me.

For as long as I can remember I have been labelled as shy. It has negative connotations. Shyness is a negative trait. I have long wished I wasn't shy. Over the years I have put images on my vision board time and time again to motivate myself to do something to be more extrovert, to learn to enjoy networking events, to love talking on the telephone, to get out there and mix with others in the world.

The reality is not so simple. My idea of a nightmare? Put me in a room full of strangers and say, "go mingle". Put me in a room full of family and friends and I'm still not wholly comfortable. Don't get me wrong, I love the fact that I am surrounded by loved ones, but being in a large group doesn't put me at ease. I'm drained by groups. I'm exhausted by crowds. I feel uneasy.

Small talk doesn't come easy
Photo Credit: Linden Laserna

Making small talk is something I find hard to do. It is a huge effort. I need time to think and small talk, conversations with strangers, doesn't give me that time. When you ask me how I am, more often than not it won't cross my mind to ask you how you are doing too. The effort of interacting, of thinking on the spot is a mind boggling effort for most introverts that no extrovert could ever comprehend. It's not because I'm not interested, I really am. It's just not in my nature to make small talk with you and by the time I realise I should ask how you are, you've moved on, lost interest, grown bored of trying to pull basic information out of me.

I'm way out of my comfort zone talking to strangers. Add to that having to communicate in a foreign language and I am often floored by the fact that I converse with anyone outside my family. But I do. On a daily basis. In a language that is not my mother tongue. It used to be a lot harder. For a child, shyness can be crippling and stressful. I know firsthand.

I was the child that hid behind my mother's skirt tails. I was the child that needed an hour to warm up at my grandparent's house. I was the child in school that rarely put their hand up when the teacher asked a question, even though I knew the answer. I was the kid that dreaded hearing the teacher say "...and then you'll give a presentation on it...." I hated those forced debates we had in the classroom, one group pro and one group against one controversial statement or another. I hated it when our religious education teacher, Mr Strang, declared we'd make a play of the bible story we'd just covered. I felt guilty for acts I never committed. I was the child that felt a classmate's humiliation. The stress and dread was real in each situation. Being centre stage was not in my nature. It's still not in my nature. All grown up but I'm still shy.

Becoming a mother is learning to know and accept yourself. Becoming a mother is like holding a mirror up to yourself twenty four hours a day. You can't expect your children to love themselves if they don't have that example. Motherhood has taught me that my own childhood was not about shyness, it was about being an introvert. Introvert covers it better than the dreaded S word. I'm not flawed. There is nothing wrong with me. The fact is that I am an introvert. It's not a negative thing. And because I recognise that now, and accept introvert is what and who I am, I can pass that message on to my sons in a positive way.

Introverts need reflection and quiet
Photo (c) Amanda van Mulligen

Boys, it's okay to be introvert. It's okay not to want to play in large groups on the playground. It's okay not to want to raise your hand in the classroom and be the centre of attention. It's okay to need time in your room alone, even if we have company. It's okay to want things to be familiar around you, to be wary of the new and unknown. It's okay not to want to tell your story, to shout from the rooftops. It's okay to think before you speak, to reflect on things before you share them. It's okay to be quiet. It's more than okay to be an introvert.

I am an introvert. My children are introverts. It doesn't need to change. We don't need to change. As a mother I will reinforce this every day. I promise to make sure my children do not spend their childhood feeling like they don't match up to society's expectations. I will make sure that my children don't feel that they are not good enough because they don't shout loudest. I will make sure they don't feel inferior because they don't feel comfortable standing before the class to share their story. I won't allow them to feel crippled with the fear that there is something wrong with them. I will teach them ways to make space for their thoughts, to understand their needs. I will help them accept their introverted selves. I will make sure they are not labelled with the S word, that they don't see their quietness as a flaw.

I promise to raise my children with the understanding that the world needs introverts, just like it needs extroverts.