Extreme introvert here, as is my husband. Church has been pain and misery for us both for our entire lives. No, I don’t feel comfortable giving talks or teaching. Being called on to pray publicly has been the bane of my existence for thirty years, the cause of many childhood traumas and one of the reasons I went inactive for several years as a teenager. After going to the temple I decided it was the reward to introverts for enduring the rest of the crap. It was the only part of church that I enjoyed — always the same, predictable, you never had to wonder what you were going to say, you didn’t have to make conversation… heaven!

I have often thought someone should write a book on “How to Survive as an Introvert in the LDS Church.” Unfortunately, I couldn’t do it myself because it would involve interviewing people.

I once said to my husband about church, “It’s like we’re all supposed to be extroverts.” And he said “No, we’re commanded to be extroverts.” And it’s true. You can’t be a good Mormon without behaving like an extrovert.

I was extremely lucky to find my wife because… she is a strong INTJ. How two introverts found each other only god knows.

But with that said, going to church is wonderful until social interactions occur… then I squirm and shriek inside!

I sit silent in PH and read the manual/scriptures and never look up. They might ask me to give the prayer if I make eye contact. *oh the horror!*

When giving a talk… its prepared fully on double spaced large print paper and read verbatim from the pulpit… where I never look up… I might pass out otherwise.

Getting together with others to do scripture study? what a bizarre activity.

As many have mentioned, being active in the church long enough can teach an introvert the skills needed to acquire a specific “church personality” which might not be his or her natural state. It’s not really a bad thing, but a matter of survival.

Yes, I prefer going to the temple over a ward activity any day.

That is an awesome bit of information–maybe I should consider a career-shift. On my mission, one of my zone leaders gave a little training once on the power of the pause–the need to deliberately pause during a discussion to allow the Spirit some room. I’m one of those people who is just about to raise my hand in SS when teachers start to feel uncomfortable and start talking again. Learning to accept some silence is a great teaching tool, both in church and elsewhere. Just giving people some room to think and compose an answer is important.

And I run out of church right after too. 3 hours is about my threshold for big group gatherings.

And as a missionary I pretended to be my mother, who, thorough years of practice as a nurse, can strike up a conversation with anyone. So, when I have to, I can turn it on at church, work, or especially in a job interview. I always feel conscious of those moments when it’s showtime. It’s not being fake, it’s just being a slightly different version of myself.

When I returned home from my mission, one day I was walking by a poster shop at the mall. I saw a quote that perfectly summed up how I had felt about the need for some solitude on P-Day. The poster said, “Solitude is not a luxury. It is a necessity.”

Teaching and speaking is pleasurable to me. Partly it’s because I’m good at it, but I think, too, it’s because it’s a way of interacting with people in a kind of role-playing situation, where I don’t have to deal with anyone personally.

I usually start out pretty cheerful in Relief Society, endure Sunday School, and am downright grumpy (or worse) by the end of Sacrament Meeting. I’ve always blamed that on coming to church with optimism and then having it fade with the disappointment of poor lessons and talks that never address my needs. This post has me wondering, though, whether it’s really that three hours is just beyond my tolerance for being with people before I need to withdraw and recharge.