It used to be that men had no qualms about verbally disparaging (or physically abusing) womenfolk if they spoke "out of turn," voiced opinions, or socialized - with other men, or even with each other. A well-behaved woman was meek and silent; like a child, she was allowed to speak only when spoken to, or only in certain places. The specific customs varied depending on location and historic era, but a popular one was that women could only speak at home, and that their voices were unwanted in public.
In the Bible (1 Corinthians 14:34-35), for instance, Paul said: "Women should remain silent in the churches. They are not allowed to speak, but must be in submission, as the law says. If they want to inquire about something, they should ask their own husbands at home; for it is disgraceful for a woman to speak in the church." (NIV)
In some religions or cultures even today, women are discouraged from speaking. An overly loud, gregarious, or social female is seen as dangerous, unruly, and impolite. Often, it is a seen as a reflection of other "moral failings," such as sexual promiscuity. A woman who speaks freely also probably has sex freely; a sociable woman is therefore a bitch and a whore.
This is an extreme opinion. It is not usually said so harshly - at least in modern America - and yet some of this idea remains and permeates our culture more subtly. Women do not generally fear physical abuse or being called a whore if they were to voice an opinion in public or interrupt a man - and yet it's statistically observable that in many gender-integrated public spheres (classrooms, business meetings), women are less likely to raise their hands or speak up. They're less likely to be called upon to speak up. And they're less likely to interrupt their male counterparts, compared to how often women are interrupted by men. Women don't participate in public in the same way that men do - because we've been conditioned not to. We've been raised that interrupting others is impolite.
The standards of "good behavior" are different for girls and boys - "boys will be boys," we're told, and so they are allowed physical and verbal freedoms like running through the house, making a mess, interrupting each other, and speaking loudly. I could see how someone might even try to argue that it is the boys who are discriminated against with such cultural allowances - because girls are seen as more capable of good, polite, restrained behavior, at a younger age, and so are given a higher standard. A boy is going to have a hard time believing he has a capacity for patience to wait his turn or to sit still in his seat if such behaviors are not modeled for him or encouraged, or if he is met with a laugh or a shrug or a "oh well, we tried" attitude when he missteps from this desired behavior. He comes to believe instead that he can't help fidgeting, that he can't help playing rowdy, that it's in his very nature to do so. When he gets away with interrupting others, he comes to believe that his words are important, that his opinions are important. He learns that a louder voice can be heard over a softer one, and if he speaks up, if he yells, if he interrupts, people will pay attention.
Similarly, girls often learn that their gender is predisposed to politeness, to empathy. They care about others, and so they care about listening to what others say, and they're willing to put others first. They will listen to someone else complete his or her thought before voicing a response. They have the capacity to wait their turn, to be patient - and indeed embody the positive qualities of their gender when they do so.
I've said it before, and I'll say it again - gender roles hurt both genders. Boys who are not loud or rambunctious might feel ashamed for not acting like a boy is supposed to; he may then purposefully act like the other boys to fit in. And girls who are too harsh or too loud or too opinionated or too rambunctious are called tomboys or bitches.
Of course, at a certain age, these prejudices about how boys act more or less fall away. Men are expected to conduct themselves with politeness and good behavior in college lecture halls and business meetings. While they may get away with interrupting colleagues on occasion, it would be noticeable (and potentially worthy of an HR write-up, or a chat with the boss) if he interrupted constantly, or acted particularly rudely when doing so.
Furthermore, while there is an expectation that women are quieter than men in professional settings, there are other public settings where women are expected to be more talkative than their male counterparts. When surrounded by other women, women are in fact "known" for their socializing. There are myriad jokes and (derogatory or derisive) phrases about their tendency to talk: gossiping, chatting, prattling, "clucking hens." In private, it's a well-known trope that wives "nag" their husbands, or just in general try to talk to their husbands about their day. (It's no wonder men are so reluctant - they spent all day at work getting a chance to talk, and now that they're home, they only want quiet, relaxing time.) At parties, women often engage both sexes in conversation, often doing the brunt work of moving a conversation forward, trying to engage those at the fringes of conversation, prompting others with questions about how they're doing, etc. If there is a person in your family who takes on the role of keeping track of everyone and updating the rest of the family on the goings-on of the others, chances are it's a woman - a mother, a grandmother, an aunt, a female cousin.
Even as girls, females are expected to be social - but only during "social times." I went to three different elementary schools growing up, and anytime I started at a new building and had to make new friends, I would go through a period of transition where I would be particularly quiet and shy. Recess monitors came up to me that first week to ask if something was wrong. Why wasn't I talking with or playing with the other girls? I was shamed for not talking, for not being social. Yet later, after I made friends, I was told off for being too social. For those who know me now, it may be hard to believe - but my third grade teacher in particular had so much trouble keeping me quiet during class that she regularly kept my assigned seat away from those of my other friends. I have the report card to prove it - she wrote in the comments section that I talked too much in class, when I wasn't supposed to.
To be fair, I don't think this is necessarily gendered - we all have to learn growing up when we are and aren't allowed to do things. There is a time and place for socializing; this is true for everyone, regardless of gender. Additionally, I think the lines become more blurred, more subtle as we age. Men and women don't talk or act so differently as adults as they do as children. We all interrupt each other sometimes, we all speak loudly sometimes, and we all stay silent sometimes. We find our own rhythm, and it's often more individual and based on where and how we feel comfortable, than about gender specifically. I'm very reserved with strangers, or in large groups, but I'm comfortable talking a lot with my husband and other close friends and family members.
Yet what I do think is gendered is the policing of one's decision of where and when and how to socialize or speak up. A man can speak as loud and ardently as he wants with few repercussions; a woman does not have the luxury of always speaking her mind unless she's comfortable with being called a bitch. A man can also be as quiet and reserved as he wishes with few repercussions - if a man isn't social, he's painted as the "strong, silent type" (stoic, unemotional, manly), or it's assumed that he has "better things to do"; he's not talkative because he's busy, he's tired, he's been working hard all day. A woman who isn't being social is seen as out of the ordinary. "Why aren't you talking?" "Is something wrong?" "Are you unhappy?"
I would be remiss here if I didn't make this discussion more intersectional. A white man probably gets away more with voicing opinions and speaking loudly than a black man does. When a white man interrupts, he's eager and has strong convictions; when a black man interrupts, he's being a bully or a thug, or his parents never taught him proper manners.
I speak from my own experience when I write of quiet women being called out on their quietness; it happens to me all the time. It's not always a question. ("What's wrong?" "Are you okay?" "Why are you so quiet?" "Do I intimidate you?") Sometimes it's a statement. ("You're so quiet." "You're so reserved." "You don't have to be scared to speak up.") But the questions are still there, still implied. It's wrong, it's weird for someone like me to be quiet or reserved. It must mean something's wrong. I must be unhappy, or uncomfortable, or scared. Maybe I'm just shy and thoughtful. Maybe I'm more comfortable with silence than with talking just to talk, with saying nothing just to fill space; maybe you're the one making me uncomfortable now that you've pointed out my "unnatural silence." I hate when people say these things. What? You think this is news to me? I know I'm quiet; you don't have to tell me.
I suspect that many people point out that I'm being quiet because they wish to draw me into conversation. Instead, it often makes me retreat more, because pointing it out makes me self-conscious about how quiet I was being, and I turn even quieter to reflect on how I was acting or how I am being perceived.
On the other hand, other people may point out that I'm being quiet because they are uncomfortable with my silence - and, for some reason, think their discomfort is my problem. What they're really saying is: "I didn't expect someone who looks like you to be quiet, and you not being how I expect you to be is making me uncomfortable - which is your problem, not mine, so please get around to fixing it and acting more like how I expect you to act, so that I can be comfortable again."
Many women complain that they are told to smile - by complete strangers. They are policed on their apparent happiness and told to smile - not because the stranger is trying to make the woman feel better or feel happier, but because the stranger is uncomfortable and wants the woman to smile, to pretend that she is happy or at ease, so that the stranger can feel secure. I don't think this has happened to me; I can't think of a time (other than when I was child throwing a pity party or a temper tantrum) when I was told by someone to smile, or act happy. I certainly can't think of a time that a stranger has approached me to harass me about not smiling. But I do hear a lot of comments about how quiet I am (from people close to me and strangers or near-strangers alike), and I think these are related. Maybe it's a level worse than "not smiling." I'm not smiling and I'm not talking, not engaging socially with the world, and it's the worst offense that people pick up and try to call me out on.
I wonder, too, if it's not because I'm blonde. I'm a 20-something blonde woman, and young women and blonde women are particularly stereotyped as social, as extroverted, as talkative, as friendly, as perky, as happy. We're supposed to all be cheerleaders, sorority girls. I'm sure Black and Hispanic women who are quiet, introverted, shy, or bookish have similar stories. Because these groups (like blondes) are particularly seen as loud, extroverted, and social, with a love of raucous parties and/or dramatic displays of emotion, a Black or Hispanic woman who does not embody the expected stereotype might hear similar "concerns." What's wrong? Why aren't you friendly? Why aren't you talking? Asian women on the other hand, are not expected to be loud or talkative, so they probably don't see similar surprise from strangers when they act quiet and reserved. I can't imagine an American woman in a hijab being told: "You're so reserved. I hardly ever hear you talk." But someone like me does.
Being a woman - even an American woman - is not a universal experience. Double standards are going to be slightly different among different groups of women. But as a young blonde white woman, I am exposed to these double standards:
- If I talk a lot, I'm seen as gossiping and idly pilfering time on silly chats; yet if I'm quiet and choose not to take advantage of opportunities for small talk, I must be unhappy or uncomfortable, because a blonde anti-social female is unnatural.
- If I'm too friendly, I'm a social butterfly, a ditz not to be taken seriously - or, even worse, a flirt, a whore, a slut, sexually promiscuous, "asking for it," begging for attention; yet if I'm not friendly enough - if I prefer solitude to parties, if I'm reluctant to smile or share personal stories - then I'm uptight, uncool, rigid, old-fashioned, I have a "stick up my ass" or my "panties in a wad," I'm a prude, a tight ass, a virgin, a bitch.
- If I interrupt someone else (especially a man, especially in a professional setting), I'm rude, I'm selfish, I'm impolite, I'm a bitch; yet if I never speak up, I'm seen as weak, scared, intimidated, and unwilling or unable to stand up for myself: a doormat, a wimp, a pussy.
- If, in the process of continuing or sparking a conversation, I ask too many "personal" questions, I'm a nag, I'm nosy, I'm a bitch; yet if I don't play this role and inquire how others are doing - or if someone else were to ask for an update on my life and I were to give what they consider a short, unrevealing answer - I'm a brat, I'm snotty, I'm not feminine or empathetic enough, I'm rude, I'm uptight, I'm a bitch.
Double standards are, by definition, a "damned if you do, damned if you don't" situation. Because there is no way to win, I've gravitated over the years to one end of the spectrum. I decided it was safer or more comfortable for me to be thought of as uptight or unfriendly than it was to be seen as sexually promiscuous or flirty, or seen as a frivolous, vapid, unintelligent ditz. I decided I'd rather be too quiet than too loud. I was okay with being thought of as snobby or rude; I told myself I was being mysterious and unknowable, that it was a virtue, that men get away with it all the time. And so I played up my introversion more. I policed myself, I made myself quieter. I think I was predisposed to some shyness and reserve, but I definitely became more shy, more reserved, and more quiet, starting in high school and college.
I've taken the Myers-Briggs personality test a few times, and though I've nearly always come out at INFJ (and always I, in particular), for many years the amount of "I" I was on the Extroverted-Introversion spectrum only increased. I went from being like upper-60s% Introverted to high-90s% Introverted from the beginning of high school to the end of college. No wonder I seemingly lost my ability to make new friends and started giving off more austere and less friendly first impressions.
I'm not trying to be rude or impolite, and I'd rather not be called a bitch (who would?) - but what hurts me more is when my reserve is interpreted as me being a doormat, or weak, or scared, or intimidated, or sad. Maybe because there's a bit of truth in there, and that's why those words hurt more. I don't see myself as rude (on the contrary, I think I'm one of the nicest people I know); but I do worry that I don't stand up for myself enough, that I don't think enough of myself. I do worry that I'm too sad, or too anxious, or too easily intimidated. Isn't the whole reason that I became more introverted because I was afraid? I was afraid of being seen as a ditz, as unintelligent, as flirtatious, as "asking for it." Being quiet seemed like it could be my protective shell.
So to all of those who have ever asked me "Why are you so quiet?" - feel free to pick your favorite answer from the ones provided below:
- Because being quiet often feels safer to me than the alternative.
- Because being quiet often feels more comfortable to me than the alternative.
- Because by now being quiet is a habit.
- Because I'm tired of being asked why I'm quiet.
- Because I'm just tired in general.
- Because I'm mysterious and unknowable. Because still waters run deep.
- Because you wouldn't ask me that question if I were a man and I'm silently protesting your belief that you have the right to police whether or not I engage you in conversation.
- Because I'm actually not paying attention to the conversation and have zoned out and am thinking about my novel or some other much more fascinating thing.
- I actually don't owe you an explanation at all. And I suspect you weren't really looking for a thoughtful response anyway - you just wanted to get me to say something in response.
In the Bible (1 Corinthians 14:34-35), for instance, Paul said: "Women should remain silent in the churches. They are not allowed to speak, but must be in submission, as the law says. If they want to inquire about something, they should ask their own husbands at home; for it is disgraceful for a woman to speak in the church." (NIV)
In some religions or cultures even today, women are discouraged from speaking. An overly loud, gregarious, or social female is seen as dangerous, unruly, and impolite. Often, it is a seen as a reflection of other "moral failings," such as sexual promiscuity. A woman who speaks freely also probably has sex freely; a sociable woman is therefore a bitch and a whore.
This is an extreme opinion. It is not usually said so harshly - at least in modern America - and yet some of this idea remains and permeates our culture more subtly. Women do not generally fear physical abuse or being called a whore if they were to voice an opinion in public or interrupt a man - and yet it's statistically observable that in many gender-integrated public spheres (classrooms, business meetings), women are less likely to raise their hands or speak up. They're less likely to be called upon to speak up. And they're less likely to interrupt their male counterparts, compared to how often women are interrupted by men. Women don't participate in public in the same way that men do - because we've been conditioned not to. We've been raised that interrupting others is impolite.
The standards of "good behavior" are different for girls and boys - "boys will be boys," we're told, and so they are allowed physical and verbal freedoms like running through the house, making a mess, interrupting each other, and speaking loudly. I could see how someone might even try to argue that it is the boys who are discriminated against with such cultural allowances - because girls are seen as more capable of good, polite, restrained behavior, at a younger age, and so are given a higher standard. A boy is going to have a hard time believing he has a capacity for patience to wait his turn or to sit still in his seat if such behaviors are not modeled for him or encouraged, or if he is met with a laugh or a shrug or a "oh well, we tried" attitude when he missteps from this desired behavior. He comes to believe instead that he can't help fidgeting, that he can't help playing rowdy, that it's in his very nature to do so. When he gets away with interrupting others, he comes to believe that his words are important, that his opinions are important. He learns that a louder voice can be heard over a softer one, and if he speaks up, if he yells, if he interrupts, people will pay attention.
Similarly, girls often learn that their gender is predisposed to politeness, to empathy. They care about others, and so they care about listening to what others say, and they're willing to put others first. They will listen to someone else complete his or her thought before voicing a response. They have the capacity to wait their turn, to be patient - and indeed embody the positive qualities of their gender when they do so.
I've said it before, and I'll say it again - gender roles hurt both genders. Boys who are not loud or rambunctious might feel ashamed for not acting like a boy is supposed to; he may then purposefully act like the other boys to fit in. And girls who are too harsh or too loud or too opinionated or too rambunctious are called tomboys or bitches.
Of course, at a certain age, these prejudices about how boys act more or less fall away. Men are expected to conduct themselves with politeness and good behavior in college lecture halls and business meetings. While they may get away with interrupting colleagues on occasion, it would be noticeable (and potentially worthy of an HR write-up, or a chat with the boss) if he interrupted constantly, or acted particularly rudely when doing so.
Furthermore, while there is an expectation that women are quieter than men in professional settings, there are other public settings where women are expected to be more talkative than their male counterparts. When surrounded by other women, women are in fact "known" for their socializing. There are myriad jokes and (derogatory or derisive) phrases about their tendency to talk: gossiping, chatting, prattling, "clucking hens." In private, it's a well-known trope that wives "nag" their husbands, or just in general try to talk to their husbands about their day. (It's no wonder men are so reluctant - they spent all day at work getting a chance to talk, and now that they're home, they only want quiet, relaxing time.) At parties, women often engage both sexes in conversation, often doing the brunt work of moving a conversation forward, trying to engage those at the fringes of conversation, prompting others with questions about how they're doing, etc. If there is a person in your family who takes on the role of keeping track of everyone and updating the rest of the family on the goings-on of the others, chances are it's a woman - a mother, a grandmother, an aunt, a female cousin.
Even as girls, females are expected to be social - but only during "social times." I went to three different elementary schools growing up, and anytime I started at a new building and had to make new friends, I would go through a period of transition where I would be particularly quiet and shy. Recess monitors came up to me that first week to ask if something was wrong. Why wasn't I talking with or playing with the other girls? I was shamed for not talking, for not being social. Yet later, after I made friends, I was told off for being too social. For those who know me now, it may be hard to believe - but my third grade teacher in particular had so much trouble keeping me quiet during class that she regularly kept my assigned seat away from those of my other friends. I have the report card to prove it - she wrote in the comments section that I talked too much in class, when I wasn't supposed to.
To be fair, I don't think this is necessarily gendered - we all have to learn growing up when we are and aren't allowed to do things. There is a time and place for socializing; this is true for everyone, regardless of gender. Additionally, I think the lines become more blurred, more subtle as we age. Men and women don't talk or act so differently as adults as they do as children. We all interrupt each other sometimes, we all speak loudly sometimes, and we all stay silent sometimes. We find our own rhythm, and it's often more individual and based on where and how we feel comfortable, than about gender specifically. I'm very reserved with strangers, or in large groups, but I'm comfortable talking a lot with my husband and other close friends and family members.
Yet what I do think is gendered is the policing of one's decision of where and when and how to socialize or speak up. A man can speak as loud and ardently as he wants with few repercussions; a woman does not have the luxury of always speaking her mind unless she's comfortable with being called a bitch. A man can also be as quiet and reserved as he wishes with few repercussions - if a man isn't social, he's painted as the "strong, silent type" (stoic, unemotional, manly), or it's assumed that he has "better things to do"; he's not talkative because he's busy, he's tired, he's been working hard all day. A woman who isn't being social is seen as out of the ordinary. "Why aren't you talking?" "Is something wrong?" "Are you unhappy?"
I would be remiss here if I didn't make this discussion more intersectional. A white man probably gets away more with voicing opinions and speaking loudly than a black man does. When a white man interrupts, he's eager and has strong convictions; when a black man interrupts, he's being a bully or a thug, or his parents never taught him proper manners.
I speak from my own experience when I write of quiet women being called out on their quietness; it happens to me all the time. It's not always a question. ("What's wrong?" "Are you okay?" "Why are you so quiet?" "Do I intimidate you?") Sometimes it's a statement. ("You're so quiet." "You're so reserved." "You don't have to be scared to speak up.") But the questions are still there, still implied. It's wrong, it's weird for someone like me to be quiet or reserved. It must mean something's wrong. I must be unhappy, or uncomfortable, or scared. Maybe I'm just shy and thoughtful. Maybe I'm more comfortable with silence than with talking just to talk, with saying nothing just to fill space; maybe you're the one making me uncomfortable now that you've pointed out my "unnatural silence." I hate when people say these things. What? You think this is news to me? I know I'm quiet; you don't have to tell me.
I suspect that many people point out that I'm being quiet because they wish to draw me into conversation. Instead, it often makes me retreat more, because pointing it out makes me self-conscious about how quiet I was being, and I turn even quieter to reflect on how I was acting or how I am being perceived.
On the other hand, other people may point out that I'm being quiet because they are uncomfortable with my silence - and, for some reason, think their discomfort is my problem. What they're really saying is: "I didn't expect someone who looks like you to be quiet, and you not being how I expect you to be is making me uncomfortable - which is your problem, not mine, so please get around to fixing it and acting more like how I expect you to act, so that I can be comfortable again."
Many women complain that they are told to smile - by complete strangers. They are policed on their apparent happiness and told to smile - not because the stranger is trying to make the woman feel better or feel happier, but because the stranger is uncomfortable and wants the woman to smile, to pretend that she is happy or at ease, so that the stranger can feel secure. I don't think this has happened to me; I can't think of a time (other than when I was child throwing a pity party or a temper tantrum) when I was told by someone to smile, or act happy. I certainly can't think of a time that a stranger has approached me to harass me about not smiling. But I do hear a lot of comments about how quiet I am (from people close to me and strangers or near-strangers alike), and I think these are related. Maybe it's a level worse than "not smiling." I'm not smiling and I'm not talking, not engaging socially with the world, and it's the worst offense that people pick up and try to call me out on.
I wonder, too, if it's not because I'm blonde. I'm a 20-something blonde woman, and young women and blonde women are particularly stereotyped as social, as extroverted, as talkative, as friendly, as perky, as happy. We're supposed to all be cheerleaders, sorority girls. I'm sure Black and Hispanic women who are quiet, introverted, shy, or bookish have similar stories. Because these groups (like blondes) are particularly seen as loud, extroverted, and social, with a love of raucous parties and/or dramatic displays of emotion, a Black or Hispanic woman who does not embody the expected stereotype might hear similar "concerns." What's wrong? Why aren't you friendly? Why aren't you talking? Asian women on the other hand, are not expected to be loud or talkative, so they probably don't see similar surprise from strangers when they act quiet and reserved. I can't imagine an American woman in a hijab being told: "You're so reserved. I hardly ever hear you talk." But someone like me does.
Being a woman - even an American woman - is not a universal experience. Double standards are going to be slightly different among different groups of women. But as a young blonde white woman, I am exposed to these double standards:
- If I talk a lot, I'm seen as gossiping and idly pilfering time on silly chats; yet if I'm quiet and choose not to take advantage of opportunities for small talk, I must be unhappy or uncomfortable, because a blonde anti-social female is unnatural.
- If I'm too friendly, I'm a social butterfly, a ditz not to be taken seriously - or, even worse, a flirt, a whore, a slut, sexually promiscuous, "asking for it," begging for attention; yet if I'm not friendly enough - if I prefer solitude to parties, if I'm reluctant to smile or share personal stories - then I'm uptight, uncool, rigid, old-fashioned, I have a "stick up my ass" or my "panties in a wad," I'm a prude, a tight ass, a virgin, a bitch.
- If I interrupt someone else (especially a man, especially in a professional setting), I'm rude, I'm selfish, I'm impolite, I'm a bitch; yet if I never speak up, I'm seen as weak, scared, intimidated, and unwilling or unable to stand up for myself: a doormat, a wimp, a pussy.
- If, in the process of continuing or sparking a conversation, I ask too many "personal" questions, I'm a nag, I'm nosy, I'm a bitch; yet if I don't play this role and inquire how others are doing - or if someone else were to ask for an update on my life and I were to give what they consider a short, unrevealing answer - I'm a brat, I'm snotty, I'm not feminine or empathetic enough, I'm rude, I'm uptight, I'm a bitch.
Double standards are, by definition, a "damned if you do, damned if you don't" situation. Because there is no way to win, I've gravitated over the years to one end of the spectrum. I decided it was safer or more comfortable for me to be thought of as uptight or unfriendly than it was to be seen as sexually promiscuous or flirty, or seen as a frivolous, vapid, unintelligent ditz. I decided I'd rather be too quiet than too loud. I was okay with being thought of as snobby or rude; I told myself I was being mysterious and unknowable, that it was a virtue, that men get away with it all the time. And so I played up my introversion more. I policed myself, I made myself quieter. I think I was predisposed to some shyness and reserve, but I definitely became more shy, more reserved, and more quiet, starting in high school and college.
I've taken the Myers-Briggs personality test a few times, and though I've nearly always come out at INFJ (and always I, in particular), for many years the amount of "I" I was on the Extroverted-Introversion spectrum only increased. I went from being like upper-60s% Introverted to high-90s% Introverted from the beginning of high school to the end of college. No wonder I seemingly lost my ability to make new friends and started giving off more austere and less friendly first impressions.
I'm not trying to be rude or impolite, and I'd rather not be called a bitch (who would?) - but what hurts me more is when my reserve is interpreted as me being a doormat, or weak, or scared, or intimidated, or sad. Maybe because there's a bit of truth in there, and that's why those words hurt more. I don't see myself as rude (on the contrary, I think I'm one of the nicest people I know); but I do worry that I don't stand up for myself enough, that I don't think enough of myself. I do worry that I'm too sad, or too anxious, or too easily intimidated. Isn't the whole reason that I became more introverted because I was afraid? I was afraid of being seen as a ditz, as unintelligent, as flirtatious, as "asking for it." Being quiet seemed like it could be my protective shell.
So to all of those who have ever asked me "Why are you so quiet?" - feel free to pick your favorite answer from the ones provided below:
- Because being quiet often feels safer to me than the alternative.
- Because being quiet often feels more comfortable to me than the alternative.
- Because by now being quiet is a habit.
- Because I'm tired of being asked why I'm quiet.
- Because I'm just tired in general.
- Because I'm mysterious and unknowable. Because still waters run deep.
- Because you wouldn't ask me that question if I were a man and I'm silently protesting your belief that you have the right to police whether or not I engage you in conversation.
- Because I'm actually not paying attention to the conversation and have zoned out and am thinking about my novel or some other much more fascinating thing.
- I actually don't owe you an explanation at all. And I suspect you weren't really looking for a thoughtful response anyway - you just wanted to get me to say something in response.
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