We’re the introverts, the wallflowers, the batmans, the backstage-heroes that make the actors shine, the Leibnitzes that give the Newtons the limelight. We’re the pew-sitters in the church who just watch the preachers go about their business.

We are the introverts, proud of our personality traits. It’s fairly easy to locate us in our natural habitats: in our rooms, at the book store, at museums or places of art and lastly in our brains. Sometimes it fares us well to be a pretend-extrovert.