Something I've experienced in my life - and I'm sure most humans do - is the gradual realization of reasons why I might not be the most amazing person on the planet.
As children, we look at the world as only ours. "This is my planet, my life experience, and everyone else is merely an extension of my experience."
Unfortunately, a lot of people still seem to have that feeling as adults. Many of us, however, at some point, realize a few things about ourselves.
We start to realize how we mishandle situations. We start to realize our faults. We start to give others the benefit of the doubt. We start to realize that there are negative traits we carry around with us.
I've spent a lot of time in my life wondering why people don't always seem thrilled to be around me.
From there, the first thought is, "Am I bummer?" Then it turns into, "If I am a bummer, why?"
Then, one day, I had to look myself in the mirror. I realized what the problem was - I'm boring. Mhmm. I'm not exciting to be around. I'm not the type of person that makes others want to do and live. I don't often make social situations better. I don't bring fun interactions to the table. Frankly, I'm not sure I know how to. I now get that, however. I now understand that.
The next step in the thought process is me accepting the fact that I'm boring. That's where I'm at right now. I've accepted it, and I'm okay with it. My verbal hesitation and social ticks took 25 years to build. It'll take a long time to deconstruct and rebuild all of that. I must accept what's in place and move forward.
My current concern is to figure out why I'm boring - and I have my writer-perspective answer.
Anything I possess that makes me a good writer is the exact same thing that makes me a boring person socially.
I've long operated under the notion of not including anything on the page that doesn't need to be there. That's also what I do socially. But that's a problem. You can't do that socially and be a fun person to be around.
Social existence is equal parts insight, ideas, time-filling, and general comfort. If you make someone comfortable, if you kill their time effectively, offer fun ideas and interesting insights, people will love you. I have some confidence that I can get a half-interesting idea out onto paper, but in conversation, I don't know how to tap into the same thought process.
I take everything too literally. In writing, I can do that. Writing becomes more efficient and clean when things are taken literally. Writers don't have to imply what's implied. That's the point of implication/inference. There's no need to overkill the punch in writing. The problem sets in with physical interaction. There's no physical need that you need to satisfy when writing to someone.
Being social is being physical. Being social is existing. We're social because we have to be. It's as simple as that. We will literally die of our own crazed minds without social interaction. So, in knowing that, there's a lot of time to be killed. There will be waste. There will be conversations that are "useless" (by my own idiotic standards). But those conversations need to happen because social interaction is not a source of information, it's a source of connection. It's a source of comfort. It's a source of existence. Information fuels connection, but is not the end-all reason why we have conversations.
It's easy for humans to stop thinking about their own negative traits. I get it. But for me, there is catharsis in being able to justify why I am the way that I am, and move on from there. Getting mad at others solves nothing at all. If I get mad at someone else, I'd be boring, and an asshole. Why bother? Why build a taller mountain of crap?
So, the overlap of my social-brain and writer-brain is what leads me to be able to write things that I'm proud of. It's also what leads me to be a boring non-socialite.
Weirdly enough, there is a certain level of pride that I can take in all of this. I'm not just 'boring, end of story'. I'm boring because of something that leads me to success in other facets of life. What's there to be ashamed of? There's pushes and pulls in life, and mine fell in a way that make me seem more boring than I am.
At the very least, I can move forward, using this idea as a delusion to keep me sane. Hopefully this isn't an overly self-aggrandizing analysis of something I loathe about myself. Hopefully it sounds as honest as it feels to me.
In the end, this is only my opinion. Maybe I'm too hard on myself. Maybe I'm not boring, but just an asshole. Who knows. Maybe I'm wrong, maybe I'm crazy, but I think I'm on to something...