Nothing has been more instrumental in my growth from painfully self-conscious to powerfully self-aware as learning I’m an introvert.

That on a physiological level I need more quiet time and space to be at my best, than people who take their energy from social stimulation.

So fundamental is this to who and how I am, that I mention it — often.

In fact, since working from home gave us introverts an unexpected time to shine, I really can’t shut up about being quiet. Because right now we have a unique opening to redress the balance of power and profile that favours the loud.

The early performance feedback was familiar — I wasn’t forthcoming with contributing ideas in group sessions. I needed to be more vocal, more visible, more confident. Then the less-constructive, observational notes that I had no idea what to do with — that I “seem distant, but am surprisingly gregarious” and have a “quiet sense of humour”.

As the responsibilities and demands on my time grew, I’d hide in empty meeting rooms to focus. Exhaust myself working on tasks that others made look easy. Spend days preparing for meetings, give it my all, then come away totally drained.

The “justs” that flew around didn’t feel like minor, simple asks to me. Why did I find it so difficult to “just jump in” or “just jump on”?

Over the years this contributed to bouts of stress and anxiety. But I’m ambitious and good at my job, so I learnt skills and strategies that helped make myself heard, set boundaries and progress to a leadership role. It probably took longer than for those who are excited by networking, fame and job-hops.

It was only when I devoured Susan Cain’s book Quiet that I realised these struggles weren’t failures of my personality or professionalism. They were issues of physiology and sociology.

The pandemic highlighted vast flaws in a system of labour that often fails to recognise these nuances of physiology. That expects everyone to work in the same way, in the same environment.

It gave introverts a ‘moment’, that needn’t now be bound to a period in time.

Despite the immense stress of juggling work with two young kids on my sensitive amygdala, I hit a new stride at home that’s continued to reap rewards since lockdowns lifted.

With all of this alone time to consider, prepare and reflect, I was more effective — in both strategy and communication. Virtual meetings offered an easier way to connect one-to-one, with fewer distractions, and I built deeper relationships with my colleagues.

Settling into a secure flow wasn’t such a battle. And all the energy no longer sapped by commuting, moving between spaces, office bustle, music and strip-light stimulation, I could plough into my work.

During this time we also began using an ‘Elements’ framework at my company to understand different personality styles. While little surprise to learn I’m a deep-thinking Air, with a second of let’s-get-this-done Earth, it’s been incredibly useful to talk openly about what this means. It also gave me guides to help communicate with novelty-driven Fire and relationship-led Water.