quiet-the-power-of-introverts-in-a-world-that-cant-stop-talking-susan-cain

there only when she withdrew from the
world.
Aron grew up, became a psychologist,
and married a robust man who
loved these qualities. To her husband,
Art, Aron was creative, intuitive, and a
deep thinker. She appreciated these
things in herself, too, but saw them as
“acceptable surface manifestations of a
terrible, hidden flaw I had been aware
of all my life.” She thought it was a
miracle that Art loved her in spite of
this flaw.
But when one of her fellow psychologists
casually described Aron as “highly
sensitive,” a lightbulb went on in her
head. It was as if these two words described
her mysterious failing, except
that the psychologist hadn’t been referring
to a flaw at all. It had been a neutral
description.
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