For most, the holiday season means going home to a million family members, endless plates of food and even more decorations.

Except for my family. Because that involves too much socializing. 

Growing up with all Introverts (or “I’s”), I learned at a young age to: 

– not answer the door when a surprise visitor shows up
– wait until “the coast is clear” to leave the house (i.e., the neighbors are out of sight)
– be quiet at the dinner table (because food is to be enjoyed, not talked over)
– sit at the back of the restaurant (at the “Mafia table”)
– never talk to my parents before their morning coffee (my mom literally shooing me away—“no, not now, Stefanie”—before I could even say good morning)

Christmas was no different. 

Our tree was always fake (because “why go out and get one more than once?”) with monochromatic decorations (as “this is not a disco”). 

And while all my friends had 38394849393 cousins over, it was just the four of us—because they were already over on Thanksgiving and we can see them next year.

That’s not to say I was raised by Grinches—my brother and I were never for want of presents. Which we’d open in the afternoon because, according to my brother, they’ll still be there no matter what time we woke up.

(Which is the same logic he used to justify nixing the cookies and milk—“Santa doesn’t need to eat at *everyone’s* house…”)

As the lone extrovert, I always thought they were just antisocial.

But, when I described this to my INTJ, his eyes widened with glee:

“That sounds… AMAZING.”

Only decades later did I realize that wasn’t that they didn’t have Christmas cheer—they were just particular in how they shared it. 

Much like how all I’s are particular about sharing anything, especially their time, energy, and conversation. And, as I learned, even love and affection.

Which is something I wish I knew as a kid—and, later as an adult, when onboarding introverted clients. 

Because it’s one thing to be shushed by my mom over coffee—and entirely another to get an “I’ll think about it” or, worse, outright rejected on a discovery call. 

If you’re an E dealing with I’s (or an I looking for shelter in a sea of E’s), Biz Typology may help you better handle your clients, JV partners, support staff, employees (and employers) and even your loved ones. 

And, more importantly, it may finally make sense why your family might be a little… off.

To get some Biz Typology under your tree (for less than the average stocking stuffer), go here: