The quiet girl in the photo
This is one of the few images taken of me when I was a child. I looked like a boy. I remember, perhaps, that I felt a little proud of being different back then.
Maybe I was forced to sit still and take the picture, which might explain why I looked scared and quiet. Sometimes I wonder --- was that already a clue that I would grow up to be introverted?
I began to feel introverted in high school. Moving from my small, familiar village to a bigger town with more students, many of whom were extremely intelligent, was a shift. I was suddenly in a new environment where I didn't quite know how to belong. That's when I started receiving feedback that I was "different." People had opinions about me, and I was aware of it. But with the enthusiasm of a young girl, and not much life experience, I just kept being myself. I focused on what mattered most to me at that time: my studies.
Even though I felt different, I still found comfort in school. It's still a safe place for me in many ways. Within my ability and vision, academics came naturally to me even without needing too much practice or effort. Thankfully, I formed strong and sincere friendships during those years, friendships that have lasted until now. We are part of each other's lives till today.
When I entered university, everything felt even bigger and more diverse and more unfamiliar. That's when my introversion became more visible. I often retreated into my inner world. I again focused on my studies. But this time, studying wasn't easy. It became a real challenge for me that required true effort to stand out.
At the time, studying abroad was my dream, but with limited finances, the only option was to earn a full scholarship. That made me push everything else aside and put studying first. Showing who I was became secondary.
I became extremely silent, especially on social media, to stay disciplined and fully commit to my goals. I wouldn't respond to comments or reply messages in group chats, even from my best friends. It wasn't that I didn't care. It was just that showing myself felt like a lot. I'm forever grateful that they still accepted and understood that version of me. Our friendship endured the quietness.
I never wanted to be the center of attention. I often sat back and observed rather than spoke. I didn't share about my life, or put myself on display. But I've always been searching for my identity, longing to express who I truly am not just through studying, but by embracing my passions. Deep down, I've had a strong sense of self, a dreamer, a quiet artist living within me. I believe I can stand out in my own way. That's why I carried sufficient confidence to keep me going, even when the way ahead was uncertain.
University gave me structure, and within that structure, effort mattered. But when I stepped into the bigger world --- studying abroad, gaining more experience, and facing the reality of life. I began to realize that my effort alone wasn't enough. In that larger space, it also takes adaptability: the ability to live, to work with others, and move with life. Perhaps it means that the effort within myself --- internal, disciplined, and persistent is no longer sufficient on its own.
I have to go further. I have to put effort into putting myself out there. Effort transforms. It becomes many things: adaptability, flexibility, openness.
PS. I'm introverted, but I often open myself to conversations, especially when I want to connect with people in my circle. I sometimes wonder if the way I express myself feels hard to approach. It seems like others hesitate to make the first move, as if they're unsure, or maybe even a little afraid. I've always valued true connection over quantity. And in any relationship, effort should come from both sides. If the balance isn't there, it's not the kind of connection I want to embrace fully.
Hanoi, June 04, 2025
Comments
Post a Comment