As an introvert, BRIGITTE author Eva Lohmann needs a lot of rest. Difficult, because her child is very bright and can’t be alone very well.
Fortunately, New Year’s Eve is still a long way off. Because if there’s one day of the year that I really don’t like, it’s New Year’s Eve. This mix of forced community, drunk, distant adults, and loud firecrackers is hell for introverts like me. For years I’ve tucked into bed that afternoon with a good book, drawn the curtains and waited for it to be over. Until it’s finally quiet again.
No more quiet minutes
Since I became a mother, however, lying in bed, books and peace are over. And 365 days a year. As luck would have it, my child actually died on December 31st. born. As if my daughter wanted to show me on the very first day of her life that nothing would be the same in the future, the little New Year’s Eve cracker burst onto that very day. Since then, six years have passed – and since then it has actually never been really quiet again.
Of course, that’s no surprise. I knew beforehand that I wouldn’t have a quiet minute with such a small being for quite a long time. But I didn’t understand how vital stillness and time are to me until all those things were suddenly gone.
Of course I absolutely love my daughter. But she also drives me crazy. The child babbles at me from morning to night, tugs at me, wants attention all the time and drains my last bit of energy. All day long she could do things from morning to night, be with people and party. Unlike some other children, she would never sit down in her room alone to draw a picture or listen to a radio play. Everything she does, she wants to do with me. She is incredibly extroverted – and therefore the exact opposite of me. As refreshing as that can be sometimes, it’s just as damn difficult for me.
Opposites of introverts and extroverts
To understand what complicates the coexistence of introverts and extroverts, you have to be aware of the different ways in which they gain and lose energy. Introverts lose energy when they spend a lot of time with other people, no matter how much they love them. For introverts to recharge their batteries, they need to be alone and able to focus on their thoughts without outside nudges. Extroverts, on the other hand, gain their energy the other way around: They draw strength from sharing with other people and are more likely to lose it when they are alone.
So I need rest and alone time to gather energy, my daughter needs to be spoken to and company. And that was the problem for a long time. Because as a mother, I naturally expected myself to back down. And did so for quite a while. But, surprise: Energy is a finite resource. Also with me. At some point it was used up. And then I couldn’t anymore.
I learned from this that I have to keep an eye on my energy reserves in order to be a good mother in the long term. I have created space for myself, both very small and somewhat larger. And also some freedom, which seems so frighteningly huge and excessive to some people that they secretly wonder why I became a mother at all. I see it in her eyes, this silent horror when I talk about how liberating the time without children is for me. A mother, as we have all learned in society, loves most of all to be with her child. If she isn’t, is she even a “good mom”? I, too, had such demands on myself. Until I realized that I couldn’t fulfill them permanently without losing myself in the long run.
Open spaces are not for beginners
My favorite and probably the smallest free space is in my bra and is made of wax. I actually always carry earplugs with me, which I have immediately on hand when the family around me turns up the heat. So I can be there, but at the same time beam away a little bit. I can even be in the same room where the child turned the radio play on full volume.
A little more freedom opens up when I leave the child with the father for a few hours. When I can do my own thing, go for a walk, write or read a book. I know that this can be incredibly difficult for young mothers in particular. Everyone has to find their own way to do this, but a very simple thought helped and still helps me: The father loves the child just as infinitely as I do. He’ll be just as careful as I am. He will do everything to ensure that nothing happens to him. And anything else that he does differently than I do will only teach the child how different ways one can move through this world. A gift actually.
And then there are the outrageously huge open spaces. They aren’t for beginners. I’m talking about long weekends and vacation trips that the father spends elsewhere with my daughter. For example, the two have been skiing together every winter since the child was three years old. I’ve never been there. I only know from videos that my daughter can ski at all. (She always looks very happy in these videos, by the way.)
A role model who knows his own limits
I stay at home alone during this time. And refuel. It almost doesn’t matter what I do. The main thing is that no one bothers me, I can stay in my own head and think through every single thought. These are days when I rediscover what I have lost in everyday family life. In which I find myself.
And here’s my tip for all moms who are now saying, “Sounds great, but I couldn’t do that.” As a mother, I am a role model for my daughter. And how about a little girl who sees her mother please everyone but herself? Who doesn’t take breaks, but tries to persevere, even if it hasn’t been possible for a long time? The girl learns that this is how it is done. And will one day be a woman herself who wants to please everyone. But when she sees that her mother knows and defends her own boundaries, I hope she will copy that too. Then the freedom that I create for myself today might even be something like an investment in my daughter’s future. Since I understood that, I’ve taken my breaks without a bad conscience.
It is also the subtleties in the language that make the difference here. For example, I never say: “You’ve been singing here for half an hour, it really annoys me.” But: “I just need a little rest, could you maybe continue singing in the living room?” So not: You’re just too much for me, but: That’s just too much for me. A small shift of words, but a big change in the message. I don’t give the child subliminal responsibility or blame, but talk about myself and what I want and need. Our relationship has gotten better since I found a good way to talk about my needs.
Longing for the little daughter who once robbed her of her energy
It will take a few more years. But at some point it will come, New Year’s Eve, when my daughter celebrates with her friends and without me. New Year’s is not the worst day for an extrovert to have a birthday; after all, there’s always something going on there. And there are fireworks too. She’ll rush into one of those noisy, colourful, crowded parties full of anticipation – and won’t need me anymore. Then, like before, I can lie in my bed and read in the afternoon, sleep through the turn of the year and miss the whole theater in peace and quiet. Maybe I actually do.
But maybe I’ll stand on my balcony and toast into the night to my daughter, who’s partying somewhere far away from me. And maybe then I’ll miss her terribly. My beloved little daughter, who babbled at me all day long and drained my last energy. But there is always something.
Being exhausted and annoyed by your child because it is so different from you: mothers rarely talk about it. Eva Lohmann41, but dares – and has a lot more to say about dealing with introverts in her book (“So nice and quiet. The strength of introverted children and parents”240 p., 16 euros, Rowohlt).