I use the term 'spine' for people when I think that they may seem on the surface sort of reticent, shy, self-deprecating, shying away from the spotlight. Quiet.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
But generally speaking, I tend to be quiet and introspective.
A widely held, but rarely articulated, belief in our society is that the ideal self is bold, alpha, gregarious. Introversion is viewed somewhere between disappointment and pathology.
Shyness has a strange element of narcissism, a belief that how we look, how we perform, is truly important to other people.
Some people take me as being a rowdy, honky-tonk hero type. Some people see me as a quiet person. I guess I can be either one, you know, at any moment.
When I was writing 'Bad Behavior,' I was very, very quiet. I would just sit there and listen to people. And if I was out in public, I was usually quiet, and people tended to assume I was stupid because I was a young, pretty girl who's quiet.
On a single day, I read articles where I was described as being alternately 'lanky,' 'pudgy,' 'doughy,' 'balding,' 'utterly forgettable,' and 'constantly irritating.'
I've always felt some kind of connection to people who are kind of over-smart. People who over-think things to the point of some sort of paralysis, and I think that certainly can be me on any given day.
When an introvert is quiet, don't assume he is depressed, snobbish or socially deficient.
Behavior which appears superficially correct but is intrinsically corrupt always irritates those who see below the surface.
My whole family is in orthotics and prosthetics, so I grew up having to check for scoliosis every week. 'Come over. Let me feel your spine.'