Deploying the Power of Quiet Since 1988

I'm reading this book right now by Susan Cain called Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking. As a person who's often so quiet that people forget I'm even here, this book has been like reading the story of my life. One passage I came across today hits particularly close to home:

"Imagine the following experiment.... A kind woman hands a toy to a toddler, explaining that the child should be very careful because it's one of the woman's favorites. The child solemnly nods assent and begins to play with the toy. Soon afterward, it breaks dramatically in two," (I assume she's talking about the toy, not the child) "having been rigged to do so.
     "The woman looks upset and cries, 'Oh, my!' Then she waits to see what the child does next.
     "Some children, it turns out, feel a lot more guilty about their (supposed) transgression than others. They look away, hug themselves, stammer out confessions, hide their faces. And it's the kids we might call the most sensitive, the most high-reactive, the ones who are likely to be introverts who feel the guiltiest. Being unusually sensitive to all experience, both positive and negative, they seem to feel both the sorrow of the woman whose toy is broken and the anxiety of having done something bad."

My first thought while reading this--right after, Oh my god, it's me!--was Oh my god, this is a thing? I'm not alone? I can't tell you how long I've thought I'm the only person who reacted (and still reacts) this way when I feel I've behaved shamefully. The results of this experiment aren't just me when I was a toddler; they're me now. Except that in addition to looking away and hugging myself and stammering out my confession and hiding my face, I would also probably rock back and forth and cry. But I'm willing to overlook the fact that I am more toddler-like than a toddler, because I'm simply ecstatic that I haven't been, for all these years, more utterly irrational about these things than anyone else on the planet. I have people! Though I've known my whole life that I'm an introvert, reading this book is like being handed a diagnosis after two decades of invasive tests--finally having a letter to pin to my shirt. It's wonderful.

In another chapter Cain wrote about a scientist who conducted experiments to test the reactions of newborns to different levels of stimuli. This scientist discovered that the infants who reacted to bright lights and loud noises by squirming and crying did not, as he'd previously thought, grow up to be extroverts needing to be heard and attended to. In fact, the babies reacted this way because they were overstimulated--easily irritated by overpowering environments. These findings also spoke to me, as I spent the first 24 hours of my life screaming. Who knew that what I was really saying was, "Where's the goddamn dimmer switch? Are you trying to blind me?"

I haven't finished the book yet so I can't vouch for the merit of it as a whole, but I can say that the majority of what I've read so far has been illuminating. I encourage all my friends who are introverts (which is, basically, all my friends) to at least have a skim of Quiet. It'll make you feel so much better about being the way you are.