I'm not shy, I'm quiet.

Feb 10, 2021

The stereotypical personality of an artist includes the following behaviours:

show offy
always “on”
always seeking attention
always doing bits and voices and accents
thousands of friends who are also “on” all the time and with whom you do bits and voices and accents

I definitely have my moments of being ‘on,’ of being loud, doing bits and skits etc

But these behaviours aren’t my default behaviours in all situations. So, growing up, this stereotype of an artist + my quiet nature (especially around new people) = difficulty for people who didn’t know me, to accept and understand that I do have confidence and that I actually would be fine working in the arts.

I remember a train ride home exchanging anecdotes with an extremely talented pal of mine. We were in the same show and we both found it incredulous how people sometimes seemed to treat us like we had ended up in the room by accident because we weren’t the loudest in the room. And then they saw us perform. And then we were accepted.

It got me thinking about the ridiculous things that humans have said to me as they either try to mould me into displaying more extroverted behaviour or they struggle to work out how some of the least loud voices in the room can actually command the most attention.

“Wow! Who is she? Where has she come from?!” It’s me. I’ve literally been here the entire time.

“Be more vocal” said by my manager on my first day at a new job. The problem wasn’t that I didn’t know how to be vocal. I just didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what I was meant to be vocal about. It . was . my . first . day.

“I didn’t know you could do that!” Huh. We learn something new every day right?

“She’s very nervous.” Actually my name is Naomi. And I wasn’t feeling nervous at all. When did we decide that if a person doesn’t talk all of the time then that means that they are nervous? This comment came from a colleague and was said by way of introduction to someone I’d never met before.

“It’s so good to hear your voice!” This was towards the end of a two week acting course where so far I hadn’t been picked for any individual acting exercises. The tutor seemed ridiculously giddy when she got me to shout out certain words from it across the room. (Please, people, stop mistaking volume for confidence. Also, stop mistaking shouting for good acting)

“This character needs to be pushy and aggressive. Do you think you can do that? Do you know people like that? Can you think of someone…Maybe picture someone who you know like that and have that image in your mind. They need to be angry and pushy. D-do…do you think you’ll be able to do that?” Yes. Yes I do because I’m human and have experienced all sorts of emotions. I also understand the concept of acting because I am also an actor. So…

“You don’t really seem like you’re the type of person who would go into acting.” I don’t really know how to respond to that.

Look. I understand that we all make assumptions about people. We judge very quickly, we stereotype, we let our unconscious bias play out. We don’t check the assumptions that we’re making.

But we need to. No excuses.

I know that there are certain things I can do to maybe change the impression I give off. I could walk taller, I could maybe curb the amount of times I talk to myself because that affects my resting bitch face, making it even more difficult for people to want to engage with me. I know that sometimes I do let the nerves of new situations and meeting new people get in the way of me presenting like a sociable human.

I also know that any time I’ve gone into a room thinking I need to be louder, be the person so many people have told me to be, I come across as fake. My voice gets too loud, I smile too much but the smile never hits my eyes. It’s actually kinda creepy and people can spot that fakery a mile off. Regardless. I think it’s our collective responsibility to check in with people in inclusive and subtle ways.

If you’re worried that someone’s quiet nature will be overshadowed by louder personalities, then it’s up to you to simply include that person. And check in with them in a way that doesn’t seem like you’re convinced that they aren’t going to fit in with the other people in the room. Maybe get to know them as a person first?

Confidence isn’t necessarily a blinding flashing disco light which demands attention.

Confidence commands attention.

Confidence can be quiet.

It is an anchor. It is being grounded and sure of yourself, even if you’re the only one who knows it.

I’m not shy, I’m (sometimes) quiet.

I’m not nervous, I’m just not talking all of the time.

I’m not invisible. I’m right here.