Being a parent is different for introverts, I think. We tend to love our kids so intensely, yet we find parenting them more exhausting and often feel we have less to give. We have more desire to give our whole being to them and yet less capacity to do so than an extrovert. It's been one of my own personal dichotomies.
Now that my oldest son has moved out of the house, I am sad not seeing his face. I think of his expressive hazel eyes and his grin when he's happy. I miss the hugs he used to give me. I wonder will things every be made right again and I wish so much he and I could have a relationship that was abiding and loving.
Yet, there's another part of me that's relieved he is gone. The house has gotten a lot quieter since he left. The constant drama of his intense emotions is no longer in the house. It was like having a rubber band that was usually pulled as tight as it would go, that has finally relaxed and is resting. (Why does God seem to get pleasure in pairing these dynamite-infused kids with laid-back introvert parents who rarely get a moment's peace?)
And there's still another part of me that is ashamed for feeling relief. The part of me that thinks that I should be, well, more like an extrovert. That teen drama shouldn't drive me crazy and I should have had more to give so he wouldn't have left the way he did. The part that says I should have been able to zealously burn the candle at both ends, to get along better with the raving extrovert family that he now lives with, that should have been able to go along with it all. That his dad and I should't be so boring so that he would have stayed here with us instead.
Do introvert parents truly hold any value to extrovert children? The question of the day that I don't know the answer to right now.