I scrolled up to reload my Instagram feed, only to be disappointed by the same post I had already liked and an array of grey, unlit profiles on top. I've officially ticked off one of my ridiculous quarantine goals, which was to swipe past every Instagram story of almost 300 people that I followed. It was oddly satisfying to have nothing left to browse on Instagram, for now, I could tuck away my phone knowing the lives of all the people I knew were as uninteresting as mine was. I switched off my phone and stared blatantly into space. Once upon a time, I would have covered up my feelings with an unwavering gentle smile. Nowadays, I let myself bathe in the complex emotions of the world. My eyes watered after seeing videos of old couples trying to sense each other's warmth through layers of plastic and frowns appear on my forehead when looking at the number of Covid cases rising by the minute. Laughter also came more easily as I realized the foolish beam spreading across my face everytime the leaves rustled to the wind. It was idiotic to bury down these overwhelming but pure emotions. Undoubtedly, I felt more at peace at home. No small talk, forced laughs or lame excuses to escape from social gatherings anymore. My introvertedness loved the pandemic a bit too much for me to admit. Yet, I despised it. The absence of chaos outside was so loud that the storm inside my head raged stronger. I could hear every penny of my thoughts, smell the saltiness of my tears and taste the darkness of my nightmares. It was the quietness of no new text messages, no deadlines to be met, rare greetings and farewells during online classes that threatened my happiness during times I'd thought would be healing. Yesterday, I dreamt of her again. She was holding my hand and wondering if I knew how much she loved me. Like every other dream I've had in the past week, she appeared so gracefully and erased all my worries. Even when dreaming, I knew it was just an illusion created from my longing to see her, but I firmly held onto the vivid imaginary moments of affection. If only we were as close as before, she wouldn't be lurking at the back of my mind. The random conversations we used to have about whether ketchup was better than mayonnaise or what the best Harry Potter house duo was seemed so distant. Everyday, I'd revisit our text messages and reminisce about the light-hearted talks, only to be reminded by the most recent text I'd sent, which she'd left hanging. That was six days ago. Like any other introvert, I prefer deep conversations to awkward chats. Until I found the perfect conversation opening, I held back from texting her. Scared I was, that if the text chain ended abruptly, I'd be even more skeptical of our bond. Would we ever again have those conversations where you simply can't text fast enough or where we keep talking over each other? Whilst waiting on the one person that could make me feel better, I lost touch with everyone else. People stopped asking me how I was doing after my absentminded responses, and for the first time, I felt alone and lonely at the same time. For someone who had occasionally avoided messages for days with no remorse, I didn't fathom how empty it felt to be out of touch with the world. The 'tranquility' of quarantine made my mind run wild with doubts. With no one to talk to, I overthought every detail of my life and visualized the worst possible scenarios from what could only be a perfectly normal situation. If silence had always kept me anchored amongst the fast-paced beat of the city, this kind of stillness rocked me like a ship on the perilous sea. I started to miss the bus tickets that led us to the city outskirts, where birds chirped and flamboyant trees grew as quickly as wildflowers and as passionately as the heat of summer. I convinced myself that I was just trying to escape from the tragic news headlines and my phone, yet, deep inside, I knew I was nostalgic for that one time she coaxed me into hopping on a random bus to see where it would lead us. Our spontaneity had guided us to 'our spot', which we immediately claimed the moment we laid eyes upon it. Maybe, I desired to be my old self again, the one that was so proud of her introversion and wasn't afraid to express her love to those that meant the world to her. The one that wasn't frightened of silence. To the eye of many, introverted people lived through quarantine as if it were their honeymoon, but social distancing tore us away from what kept us sane: stability. To feel uncomfortable in our own skin left our souls homeless. Nonetheless, it got better. The corners of my mouth twitched in amusement as I saw the notification for a new message. It said, "I miss you loads, wish Covid never happened", with a sad emoji on the side. It was the perfect text, for I also yearned to tell her the same.

Being introverted means that “normal” things that extroverts are good at are twice as hard for me. Being the great-grandaughter of a great lady, a wonderful female example who showed resilience and grit, propells me to move forward with courage. In fact, 2019's “word of the year” for me was courage. I haven't yet determined the word for 2020. I believe I will have clarity on that sometime around November. A few days ago I had a book signing event where I met a few people who were really excited to meet me and talk about my book. It's exhilarating and humblng, truly. My photo was taken by a journalist at this event, and lo and behold it made the front page of a county paper. I geeked out a little on social media, and my husband also gushed. Now, I want to hide and write about my feelings. You just cant get past introversion.

“Shy kids never shine” Naturally, as a 17 year old girl living as Gen Z, this quote struck my eye as I was about to swipe through the never-ending Snapchat stories. I replayed this particular story about five times, just to make sure that I had read it right. There it was, written on the whiteboard at the top in blue marker surrounded by a bubble. My initial reaction was to make a pun, also natural but in a more personal way. Ahaha yeah, shy kids never shine, they shy-ne I snickered in my head, too embarrassing to say out loud. An hour later though, it floated right back into my head, because of a stupid comment by a stupid teacher. I'm aware of how much I sound like a 21st century teenage cliche, and that's okay. Once you learn how to accept yourself, it's much easier to go through life without having to meet people's expectations. Before the quote really hit me, I had gone to the careers office in my school, as my friend had requested my presence while she went to pick up a form from the careers teacher. As I stood idly, waiting for the teacher to fish out the paper from one of the desk drawers, she turned to me and said “Have I seen you before?” Hmm. I had a feeling where this was going, but I replied nonetheless. “Not personally. I mean, I've come to this office a few times when my friends had career committee meetings, but not like, personally to get advice from you.” A pause. “I have never seen you. Or is it because you're wearing your hair open today?” I shook my head no. “And the fact that you're a prefect too? That's sad.” She scrutinized my red tie and the badge that read “prefect” in bold, gold letters that the school insist all of us authoritative figures wear. I felt myself get defensive immediately, intimidated by her tone and the words that accompanied it. “Um, I mean you have seen me though, I've gone up in assembly for being a prefect and my clubs and…” She cut me off and said “Yeah but that was in a group. You've never been up to speak individually have you? Mmm. So you kind of just…fade into the background. No one ever remembers the shy students.” And just like that, my good mood had turned sour, and it was as if someone had poked a hole in my body as it slowly deflated. What irked me the most was the fact that I had been doing so much in the past year as it was my last year before university, and that was clear as I indulged in activities such as community service and made a name for myself such as holding a prefect position. And not even because I needed them to look good on my c.v, but because I had finally started to come out of my shell and genuinely enjoyed them. So why did I care so much that this teacher, who wasn't even involved in other aspects of the school apart from careers, didn't recognize me, and so essentially, recognize me as a student of this school? It was because I knew the type of person that I used to be, and how far I'd come, and her blunt words bought me right back to the past. Introvert. Shy. Awkward. Behind the scenes. Under the radar. Closed-off. Quiet. Mostly synonyms of each other, and none of them new to me. In my previous school, I had been the dictionary version of a wallflower, never really participating in any events, though I knew it would benefit me later on. Always sticking in my comfort zone, with the same group of equally as shy friends. Always cowering away from the limelight. Neutral. Unknown. Faded. Even though I knew that I had become a completely different person in a good way, improving myself and getting to this point where I participated in a bunch of clubs and socializing with people, it made me angry that a teacher could be so blunt and crush someone so easily. Even if I was still that shy girl that I used to be, it didn't make me any less worthy than people who had the confidence to speak in assembly all the time and make themselves known. Some of the most famous people were the most shy kids, and most of the processes that work today are due to people behind the scenes, sometimes never getting credit for the effort they put in. The world isn't fair like that, but for a teacher to put someone down without even knowing them, it's a different story. I know I'm just 17, but I truly have made so many experiences in the last two years of my A levels that have provoked me to reflect on myself everyday, and want to share them with people who can relate. Like I said in the beginning, it may be cliche, and sometimes I may act like it too, but as long as you know your abilities, it really doesn't matter what anyone else thinks of you. For any teachers, or even parents out there; please encourage your kids in the right way. Let them know that they're never too quiet or too loud, and that they can achieve regardless. For those of you who're still trying to figure this whole life thing out like me; you'll never be too shy to shine, and a quote I used to relate with that still makes me smile, “never let them dull your sparkle.”

“You see things. You keep quiet about them. And you understand.” -Stephen Chbosky I have this favorite book by Stephen Chbosky entitled ‘The Perks of Being a Wallflower'. He talked me out of how great it is to be a flower that blooms secretly on the side and not being plucked out because you are not getting noticed. He made me feel superior in that position where I could just get to see the other flowers being taken care of or being torn out, in another sense. Is that really it? I, in reality, see myself as a wallflower. I am proud myself going to campus, going to social events, going to various places and having people around me. I can actually converse with people and engage in normal conversation, such as, talking about exams, talking about our professors, talking about those new controversial couples in the department, or even talking about the shoes sale in the nearest department store. Nonetheless, in all cases, there is a part of me that hides, like a personality that wants to fly out, the ‘social butterfly'. I envy those people who are loud and vocal, can say whatever they want to say and can deal with arguments without feeling bad. Sad to say, I cannot do that, I am tied to the complimentary words and, with all the nodding and smiling. It feels like, I just always need to agree. I am afraid to hurt others' feelings. I am afraid they will hate me. I am afraid to feel alone, so I believe it will be better to hide the other side of me. I envy those people who can be friends with people whom they just met without being nervous and awkward. I am wondering where they get their charismatic personalities to attract numerous people in their life. Personally, it takes me years to be considered a person as a friend. I find it hard to consider a person as a friend whom I just see in the department, in the organization's meetings, at family reunions or even my roommate in just one semester. I envy those people who always have the energy to socialize without feeling tired. For myself, I feel so exhausted after talking to a few people in just a day or talking in front for a project presentation. I view myself as a battery that is being consumed for talking or even facing up people. My comfort zone is on the walls. I feel contented but restrained in that position. There are just so many words I want to say and so many things I want to do but believe they are not for me. I am attached to the wall and the struggling part is that I cannot get out of it.