When Opposites Attract| What To Know When Loving An Extrovert or Introvert
So you fell in love with someone who is completely different from you. Surprise! No surprise there, actually, a good number of us find ourselves attracted to people who are fundamentally different from us. The further they are from us on the temperament spectrum, the more googly and starry our eyes become. Num...
So you fell in love with someone who is completely different from you. Surprise! No surprise there, actually, a good number of us find ourselves attracted to people who are fundamentally different from us. The further they are from us on the temperament spectrum, the more googly and starry our eyes become. Num.
Opposites attract; we bond over our similarities, and are fascinated by our differences. Extroverts, for some reason, find introverts mysteriously hot, while introverts find extroverts colorfully entertaining, and like the opposite ends of a magnet, *snap* we stick. This isn't always the case as you know, but you and I can agree that we know at least 250,346,000 couples living out this extrovert-meets-introvert love story.
It's awesome being with someone who is different, it provides experiences you never would have had otherwise. One of you likes to party, while the other loves the couch, then you get the best of both worlds! One of you loves to be around family, friends and even family of friends, and the other loves the company of the wall (In fact, maybe you've caught him smiling at the wall a few times) Well, best of both worlds again; sometimes, you could both hang out with people, and sometimes, you could both smile at the wall.
I took the Myers Briggs test a few years ago and it turns out I'm both an introvert and extrovert. I'm a hybrid of some sort, so that explains a lot. Lol. Ed is the star of the show because he has to know when to switch methods of loving me. I decided to write this post on how to love your introvert or extrovert because I'm a hybrid and I get the complexity of all of this. Stay with me.
First, let's get this out there—there is nothing wrong with your introvert or extrovert. If she is a couch-lover and you always know where the party is at, that's fine. There's nothing wrong with this person you love, in fact, you'll find that you complement each other quite well. If your extrovert loves to host friends and strangers at your dinner table every weekend, there's nothing wrong with that either, it's a personality type and is part of what makes him the person you love. The strangers though...(can't help you there).
In these cases when opposites attract, it's usually important to accept the person the way he or she is, cherish your similarities and celebrate your differences.
It makes your experience all the richer—walls, strangers and all. Let's assume your introvert is a "He" and our extrovert is a "She". Here are some important tips on how to love them:
How to love your introvert
#1 Accept him (there is nothing wrong with being reclusive) Don't try to make him an extrovert, that's not who he is.
#2 Let him have his own space. Respect the space
#3 Never criticize him publicly
#4 Never demand to settle a quarrel on the spot. Internalizing is a bid deal to introverts. Let him walk through the process. He'll speak eventually.
#5 Listen when he finally starts to speak, read between the lines and clarify after he is done communicating. Clarify after, not during, it may disrupt the internalizing and thought process and then in goes Mr. Turtle into his shell.
#6 Make time for him
#7 Celebrate him privately (I feel like some extroverts like to be celebrated publicly as well). However, if he really doesn't like being center of attention, keep it private.
#8 Acknowledge his arrival in public with very little ruckus, nothing to draw attention!
#9 Don't let him feel left out during conversations with other people, ask what his opinion is. Acknowledge his contribution.
How to love your extrovert
#1 Accept her (there is nothing wrong with being gregarious) Don't try to make her into an introvert, she'll grow defensive and weird.
#2 Let her fly! Extroverts love to be around people, they feed off the energy of congregated parties, you might need to make some adjustments to learn to tolerate having lots of people in your space(lol)
#3 Praise your extrovert publicly and let her hear you do it
#4 Let her do her thing, whether it's to travel or hang out or host multitudes at your home
#5 Don't guilt trip her when she returns from doing her thing (very important, it contradicts #6)
#6 Support her activities. Buy her a ticket to Maui, make her multitude feel welcome at your home, party sometimes
#7 Let her know she is the life of the party
#8 Let her know she is the life of your party (*cue* awww)
#9 Be happy to see her in private and in public and show how happy you are!
Are you an introvert or extrovert? How do you like to be loved? How do you love yours?
Real Stories #5: This Modern Princess and her Frog
I think the best part about dating is the chase! Who's with me on that? That period when he promises you everything, anything, his heart, his life, his grandma's ring and his grandma too. I love the butterflies I get in my tummy and the way my heart slams in my chest. It's amusing how much effort guys put into it. It does a lot for a girl's self-esteem and honestly I wish I could have had more "chases".
If I could send a text to my teenage self, I'd say, "Date A lot, you sexy thing! xxx". I've dated 3 guys in my life and I wish I had put myself out there a bit more, to improve my romantic repertoire! Lol! I am not saying one should date 10 guys or something, but put yourself out there, nonetheless!
Let's rephrase, put yourself out there, but don't kiss too many frogs either! My first frog was at 17. First and worst kissing experience ever. Ever. Ever. I know, 17 years-old is like grandma-old in make-out world.
Anyway, back to the first frog kiss. I was standing there, kissing this guy, whom I had no feelings for, with his tongue down my throat, literally! I almost gagged but I politely held on for about 10 minutes. Then the boob-squeezing began and he also started to breathe heavily for some reason. I decided at that point that it was enough and pushed him off. When I was finally alone, I remember taking off my clothes and taking a long bath. I wouldn't stop crying. Of course, I also brushed my teeth.
After that, I was done with everything; guys, kissing, frogs and boobs. Little did I know, that I would be madly in love with someone a while later. When we kissed, it felt like I was on bubbles. It was perfect. It was Heaven. Perfect heavenly bubbles. Then at some point, it all went south because we realized we wanted different things. He was very intensely "testing the waters" and thought I'd be fine with it.
Dating has taught me a few things, (1) don't settle; (2) don't be fine with a guy who "tests waters" when you are in his life, (3) don't dabble into things that have no future and of course, (4) kiss only the frogs who you have feelings for, otherwise, you'd just be kissing a random frog and we all know that's yucky.
This is story #5 of the "Dating Like Crazy" series (read #4, #3, #2 and #1 ). This article was written by an anonymous contributor. Her views and opinions are entirely hers and do not necessarily reflect the views of PGI on this topic.Please note that this is a real story, please comment kindly. Thanks.
My 7-year old nephew is visiting and he has been loitering around me because he saw the title! Lol! This is not the fairytale you think it is, I've told him but he doesn't believe. He reads quite impressively too.
Harry's Potter
A warm candlelight casts unruly shadows across the wall, as he works tirelessly into the night.
We sit in no particular order on the bare, stone floor of the room. The weaker ones rest along the walls, their shadows misplaced. We have been here for a while now, some longer than others.
I rub my eyes, trying to stay awake; it might be my turn soon. Ire is sitting next to me, too fidgety and too active for a person with her condition. She nudges me sharply, "Psst. Look at her."
I throw a lazy glance at the front door, to which she’s pointing; the one we all came in through. A girl steps in uncertainly - frightened and self-conscious and rightfully so; her skin is pale and cracks run haphazardly along her dehydrated skin. Her face is dirty with streaks of dried tears.
As she gets closer, I flinch a little at a jagged line that runs over the right side of her grey, scaly lips, it cuts deep like a trench.
"She looks like she fell on her face," Ire chuckled.
Everyone is staring at her now. Some edge closer to the walls, leaving her exposed to our scrutiny.
"Yuck!" Ire whispers loud enough for her to hear.
The girl moves along, to the work bench, through the path created by the others. Her eyes fixed on the floor, she drags her feet until she’s standing right beside him at the bench.
The potter stops and looks at her. He picks her up and stares for a while. He carefully runs his thumb along the frightening crack, then flips her over on her head, inspecting, his fingers smoothing and his nails scraping.
"He's going to throw her out, for sure. What a waste!” Ire hisses.
"Why is he paying so much attention to her?" She grumbles, "I got here about fifteen years ago, if anyone needs the potter's attention, it's me!" She pouts, as she self-consciously fingers the place where her other handle used to be.
Suddenly, she nudges me hard, her sadness evaporating,"Psst! Harry, look at that guy, his pouring spout is broken", She giggles, pointing at a dark clay pot, who was lying on his side, motionless, save for his steady breathing, "Where is the broken-off bit? What a klutz! Reckless klutz."
My gaze resettles on the potter's hands around the new girl. He carefully turns her over again and dusts her with a light brush. As he does, before my eyes—the unsightly cracks on her skin begin to connect with other patterns that lay beneath the accumulated grime. The more he dusts, the more he reveals the most beautiful, intricate patterns etched into her red clay skin. His face remains still but his eyes gleam and dance. He can remember when he created her, when he drew those patterns. For a split second, I see a smile, a quick show of white between his lips. The potter takes his time with her. I watch him for hours and when he sets her down, I can't believe my eyes. Her patterns are breathtaking, her warm earth tone, even more florid in the candlelight.
"Psst, Harry. Look at this one", Ire stands awkwardly, her lone jug arm sitting akimbo as it always does. I ignore her. She wanders away into the rows of broken vessels, poking the ones who catch her attention and asking them why they look the way they do. What did they do wrong? She seems completely oblivious to her missing arm and cracked back.
I inch closer to the potter, something rattling with every move I make. He looks at me and I stop short. It's a peculiar look. I know what he sees, he sees a perfectly made blue porcelain jug with little hand-painted white and yellow petals around my neck, both handles present, spout intact, no scratches. There was no apparent damage on me, not like the others with the tarnishes and cracks, not glaring like the red clay pot.
As he reaches for me, I feel his warmth. His fingers close around my trunk and he lifts me to his working table. He inspects me but finds nothing. Then he looks inside and there they are; the cracks, the chips, the stagnant fluid that has sat for years and has stained my base, a light rancid smell emitting from within.
Then he begins. He cleans and scraps and works, not taking a break. With every chisel and chip, I feel myself becoming the person he intends me to be. Clean. Strong. Radiant. A little strange but beautiful, an advertisement for the Potter himself.
The chiseling aches and the scraping hurts but I know when he is through, I will be wonderfully new.
***************************************
Draw closer to the potter's bench. He made you, he will fix you, he knows what he's doing, he knows where it hurts, even when you don't.
Also, the church is made for everyone, please come in. No, you don't even have to knock!
Meet Jesus, here.
Why You Shouldn't Throw Eggs At Prostitutes
Sometimes, I sit on my sofa, put up my feet and seriously wonder about God. He is nothing like us. He doesn't think like us, he doesn't work like us and he doesn't speak like us.
He's so unpredictable with his plans and unapologetically so. For example, He sent Jesus into the most unlikely family on earth, the last family you'd expect to have our Saviour born into. Jesus' great great gramps and grams had some very scandalous situations in their lives. He had super-great gramps Judah, who played a little more than footsie with a girl who he thought was a prostitute. She turned out to be his daughter-in-law. Cringe! *Secret of the Sand script-flip* Of course, the one-night-stand produced a baby called Perez!
Jesus also had Rahab (aka Sugar-Rae), the prostitute with the sultry pout, the endless hair and legs for miles. Something tells me she was pretty good at her job, she'd wink and hand you a business card and mouth, "You can call me Sugar-Rae." Her house was on the wall of the city, so she probably had a welcome package with non-transferable coupons for new tourists (She was a great business woman).
Jesus had super-gramps Solomon, who was born by a woman, whose husband, David had murdered intentionally to get with her *side eye*.
When I think about these stories, I interlace my fingers behind my head and smile. I like that He doesn't think like me. I adore Him for it. He will use anyone to get his business done. You'd think God would pick a "flawless generation" but nope, it pleased him to use that one crazy family, even though they had DRA-MAH!
Let's not turn up our noses up at anyone or any family. We are all beautifully crafted for use, yes, even the Rae-Rae's!
Hey, what are your thoughts? I'd love to know!
The Man who sits on My Sofa at 5.30 AM
At 5.30am, just before the sky turns honey-amber, right there, in the dark space of my living room, sits a man, on my sofa. His posture is regal but alert, like he is poised for something, like he's anticipating.
He is still for most of the time, his pupils are fully dilated, his ears attentive, his skin cool from the conditioned air, his senses accommodate all they can in this dark room.
In the still silence, he says nothing. If he was anything like me, he would cross his legs several times, or make a fuss in his seat, searching frantically for a distraction. He sees my pile of magazines, a little smile lights his face but he makes no move to pacify the discomfort of his wait.
Suddenly, he hears a rustle from my bedroom, he sits up with a start. He is hopeful. He cocks his head to the side, he holds his breath, then wills himself to breathe.
Photo credit: David Bragdon
The rustling stops and the silence returns.
He remains still on my sofa. Now the sun is peeking from the base of the sky, its rays streaking flamboyantly.
It's 6.30. Vibrations take over the ambience. My phone vibrates from the closet, where I have put it. I do this to ensure I get up, walk to it and turn it off, "the walk will wake me up," I always tell people, it will. My Fitbit violently vibrates against my wrist.
He is sure I will wake up now and see in a glance, the man who sits on my sofa at 5.30. The vibrations go on for a few minutes. His head is cocked again. His breath is held. He hears a dull thump, as my feet swing off the bed and hit the floor in a groggy stance.
He hears shuffling, I'm making my way to the vibrating phone. He is sure I will come out to the living room now. The phone stops.
He hears quick steps go into the bathroom; a flush; a rushed fall of barefoot steps; a rustle of bed fabric.
Then silence.
He stares out of my window at the sun and waits.
At 6.45am, I stumble out of my room. I stop short and stare at my empty sofa.
Wait.
I'm forgetting something.
No!
I forgot something.
I was supposed to meet with Him at 5.30am!
How did I forget?
I'm sorry that I stood you up for the umpteenth time, J-bae*. I sit dejected on my sofa. I should have set 6 alarms, I should have splashed some water on my face. I should have done the jumping jacks. I should have...
With every preemptive tip, I feel myself sink heavily into the soft cushions, my shoulders droop, my eye shut into slits. We were supposed to meet and talk like we always do, but I wouldn't get out of bed...and now he's gone away.
He's gone.
I lay my head on the side of my sofa, ashamed to pray or sing.
Then I feel it...a warmth, a glow, it surrounds me. It draws me in, like arms. It's so warm, my face breaks into a smile.
He isn't gone.
He is here.
He never left. ♥️
**One day, the word bae will become completely obsolete, but till then, J-bae, for me, is none other than Jesus!
Related post: The obvious solution to doze-praying; Think Thomas; God's soprano voice and twerks
Why You Shouldn’t be in a Hurry to get Married: The Law of the Avocado
The other day, I heard about a couple who got married three weeks after their first date and they are very happy together; they’ve been together for over five years now! I love that couple already. They clearly aren’t mainstream. Those are the type of stories I love to hear and tell people; extraordinary situations, good vibes, no negativity, no bad thoughts—you know, being the exception, the couple who dates for three weeks and whose marriage don’t fall apart in a huff and puff contest! I really like those stories. However, that's not what this post is about. It's about the crazy world we live in and the law of the avocado.
Stay with me.
I love avocados. I don't know what it is- I cut it open, I see the green flesh and I get very, very happy. I go crazy with one half- I eat it with a spoon, or slather it all over my chicken sandwich or chop it into my salad but I only ever use half, because both halves might be over-doing it for me. Now, if you’re an avocado-lover like me and you realize you can only eat one half, then you know that in a few moments, you desperately need to figure out a way to preserve the other half as soon as possible.
Why?
Avocados contain an enzyme known as polyphenol oxidase, which when exposed to air turns it brown. Summary, leaving your cut avocado out, will have it looking like something the cat dragged in and sneezed on.
Avocados are very sensitive to air— and to time. If you leave it out for about 10 to 30 minutes, it just keeps grinning at you, all green and lush and juicy. In two hours…then ...ATCHOO!! Cat’s sneeze.
It’s the same with relationships, it always starts out green, lush and juicy—always; but like the avocado, when left to the elements, it begins to show its true nature (which isn't always negative by the way). Nevertheless, it's a good idea to date for a while before getting married. There are no rules about how long a couple should date before they get married, however, the importance of knowing without any doubt or sentiment that you are making the right decision is so ridiculously imperative.
One of the advantages of dating for ages, is that it gives you a chance to sit still and watch your relationship, to watch for habits, for anger issues, for spending patterns, for cheating habits, for interpersonal skills and parent-sibling relations, to watch for reconcilable and irreconcilable differences. Do all the watching before you get married. Seriously, before you say ‘I do’, sit back, and watch your avocado-relationship in HD, if need be, rewind, pause, set to slo-mo. Please, just watch. Whenever you notice any issue, it's a good idea to discuss with your significant other. If it is an irreconcilable difference then, well then, I guess you caught it before you said “Yes”.
If you give your relationship enough time to let its real nature come through, you could be saving yourself a lot of drama. On one hand, it could either pass the avocado test, i.e remain greenly constant and constantly green- unchanging, despite the circumstances or amount of time or it might morph and look like 'the thing I said about the cat'. ATCHOO!
Ever tried the avocado test on your relationship? Did you have a short dating period? How cool is that? If you did, please share! What’s your ideal dating duration? Ever heard about the wait-for-30-days-before-we-start-dating rule?
Please share your thoughts with us:
Related Posts: Married to a jerk; 4 things I wish I knew on Dating Boulevard
Letters to my Greatgrand Daughter: Fighting for Romeo
Dear Charly,
Everyone loves a good love story; and what's a good love story without the typical "I forbid you to ever see him again” ban? What your parents don’t know, is that those words, are the exact reason you’d see him again! Right? I know, isn’t life spicy?
Somewhere, somehow, at some time, we all get an opportunity to defend our decision to be with someone. It could be as uneventful as unsalted butter but usually, it’s a full-blown Romeo-and-Juliet type situation where the aforementioned ban is quickly enacted by the “authorities” and everyone gets weird and you burst out crying, and out the door, into a hypothetical garden, where you and your Romeo promise each other, that it’s you, both, against the world and you will overcome and all that good stuff.
I’m an advocate for romance, drama and garden-themed proclamations but i have to say- not all relationships are worth fighting for, not all guys are actually worth the trouble.
Think about it—ALL sentiments aside; discard the garden backdrop and the tears and ask yourself some questions.
Is he worth the fight? Wouldn't it be funny(or not so much) if you went to bat for him and in the end, he is, for lack of a better string of words, not the most decent of guys? Would he do the same for you? What are your values? What are his values? Do they converge? Do they diverge so much that they make a 180 degree angle? Are they parallel? Don't answer just yet and don't ask him. Observe him.
Discard also, the fact that he kisses like Adonis and that you literally become gooey pap, when he looks into your eyes.
Study him closely. It’s almost accurate, the vibes you’d pick up, if you listen- and i mean, really listen, to the words he speaks and the way he says those words; if you looked closely at him and if you prayed intently and seriously like your future depends on it- because it does. If you do this, you'll figure out if he's worth it.
Let's admit it, sometimes parents and third parties are right, parents particularly, it's like they can sense stuff we can't. Sometimes, not always. At those other times, it's their fear, talking.
I had an opportunity to defend my relationship once. I fought, of course, gladly too, because i loved to fight. It was a type of hobby. Anyway, then, i found out he was wasn't being honest (putting it mildly), a clown of a boyfriend he was, really(still putting it mildly). Those are not the types you fight for, nope, let those relationships go, let them slide into a sea of forgetfulness and don’t lift a finger to help them along. Just keep moving.
If he isn’t a clown boyfriend, then strap up your battle boots, baby.
To fight for your relationship, your mind has to be whole. First, remind yourself that it’s your life and whatever you decide, you have the pleasure of baring its consequences. Consequences, spooky, huh? i know. The decision to preserve a relationship, depicts maturity and integrity. Know that I'm proud of you, if you ever find yourself in this position. It means I raised someone who raised someone, who raised someone else well!
Second, understand that "Fighting” doesn’t have to be disrespectful or aggressive. It’s just an opportunity to state your decision to stay with this person, while also, implicitly or explicitly confirming your awareness of putting up with the responsibility that comes with the consequences (it’s that fun word again).
It helps when the person you are fighting for makes it worth it. That way, you can work as a teamin building the relationship, even if it's in the least conducive environment and you can be the Bonnie to his Clyde and sing your theme song in Jay-z's voice.
Make the right decision and do your homework. Consider both possibilities: Your advisers may be dead right or dead wrong. Figure out which it is, don't fight blindly without proof, get your hands dirty and knees scraped, digging for facts to vindicate(or not vindicate) Romeo. Too many times, we fail to do our research because we can’t see past the Adonis lips and the garden-cloud. Tsk.
Also make sure your fact-finding is unbiased with the aim of finding out the truth about this Romeo-Adonis- Clyde candidate. Pray about it, divine help couldn't come in handy enough.
I hope their suspicions are wrong and no evidence can be found to support them. In that case, it's time to stand and fight! *insert war cry*
Love,
Greatgran x
Fighting against romantic injustice since 2001. Hehe.
Related posts: I found the one and she's a she; why you don't deserve to be happy; The rolex effect.
8 Life-Love Skills to Teach Our sons
Before my sons jump out the front door and begin life as godly, independent, skillful, ground-breakingly smart and attractively hot members of the society, I'd love to teach them a few life skills. I feel like girls get to be taught all the soft skills and the guys get left out. Well, that shouldn't be, plus they aren't just soft skills but actual life-preserving skills especially #1, #3 and #8. I'd really appreciate if you could contribute to the list. Here's what I've come up with so far:
1. How to bake a mean cake (and cook Efo riro and sea food gumbo,oh and to clean up)
Nothing beats the acquisition of the basic life skills that keep you alive-cooking and good hygiene. Tag us as cheap and having low standards, but every girl loves a guy who can cook. As early as he can learn, teach your son the value of being able to boil more than just an egg. Any guy who can evoke gustatory-ecstasy and clean, please make him president.
2. How to be proud of his identity (and his passport)
The decision to understand and embrace our identities is reflected in our speech, actions and eventually in our children. They listen to us intently, and the mould their psyche and values around those expressions. No matter where you are from, you were destined to be a nova and to impact lives because you are from that part of the planet. If your son can understand that he can be relevant in whatever community he finds himself using his innate skills and identity, then it only makes you a proud parent and the world a better place!
3. That he must forget the stiffy and let her go at the slightest stiffen (and that 'No' means 'No'. Seriously)
"Iassumed that she was playing hard to get. You know how 'No' really means 'Yes'?" That's the opening statement for many rapists as they get debriefed by their lawyers. A statement based on the most unreasonable assumptions. We need to teach our sons that the slightest show of reluctance from a woman means "back off". Honestly, even if she comes back begging and naked, umm...sorry, keep stepping.
4. How to serve (and buy someone else a pair of sneaks for a change)
The best leaders are servants. The worst of them are self-centered, selfish, concerned about their own gain and wait around to be served. Boys, from, a very young age must learn to serve others, be responsible for younger children and their community. Imagine a world where we all teach our kids leadership skills from their toddler years, to care, share and honor others!
5. How to compromise (and the art of putting down the toilet seat, sometimes)
God, in all his wisdom put us in Eden, a place of pleasure which included no toilet seats and doors. Closing door(including microwave doors) and putting down the toilet seat are two things men are known to struggle with. Is it ever too early to teach sons to close doors? I think learning to pee standing and trying to aim already proves exciting enough for them, so putting down the seat is sometimes overlooked and they fail to learn. I plan to teach my son how to compromise or we might just settle it by having swing-doors...do they make swing toilet seats?
6. How to check out a girl and talk to her
Ed says his dad taught him and his brother the art of scoping and sizing up girls! Lol. Of course, both sons and even dad have differing preferences but he taught them to set their preference standards first, when they find the right girl, then, they follow through. I thought that was cool, men should have standards too. Make sure your son's game is tight.
7. How to handle heartbreak, move on (and cry like a boss)
Contrary to general opinion, men aren't getting any younger either and even though they don't have any biological eggs turning into omelettes, their time is also precious. Teach your son to value himself and to know when to initiate his exit strategy in unfavorable, unhealthy situations and relationships. Also teach him that it's ok to cry, that being heartbroken doesn't make him any less of a man and that getting drunk and hung over probably makes it a little worse...especially if he had omelettes the night before.
8. How to be faithful
How do you teach a son not to be a two-timing nuisance that ends up being lynched by 17+ women? I guess as a parent, the best you can do is to reward honesty, teach them to respect commitment and to be emotionally intelligent.
Of course, as parents, we won't be there to teach our kids these things in real time and as they need them, but from their early ages until they grow a weird mustache, a full Moses beard and choose to leave home, we must teach them to be principled, rational, strong yet accessible, endowed with culinary prowess and a heightened sense of honesty and service.
So, I'm not a parent yet but I'm learning to plan ahead and be prepared! Could you help me populate the space below with skills that can be passed down to little boys? Do you agree with the 8 skills? Which is most relevant to you?