Opposites attract—like two magnets, like oil and vinegar, like my husband and I or Trump and Melania (not diving into politics, just to use an interesting example). Our energies pull forcefully against one another but snap right back into each other’s arms (or up in each other’s grill). So are we the cliché?

I recently came across Chelsea Samelson’s article for Acculturated, titled First Lady Melania Trump Isn’t Miserable, She’s an Introvert. In it, she writes, “Melania Trump isn’t miserable—Melania Trump is an introvert. Maybe it just takes one to see one.”

Like Samelson, I intuited this immediately during Trump’s first term in office, always thinking, ”Poor Melania. I’d never want to be in her position—the world’s eyes glued to you at every moment, judging, comparing, disapproving…” It takes one to know one.

Much like Trump, my husband gets revved up around people, movement, energy, and change. I, though, am best with quiet, predictability, and solitude. He—a dandelion flourishing in a field of dandelions—can weather anything extreme. Meanwhile, I—a contentedly solitary orchid—thrive under specific and carefully balanced conditions. I‘m hypersensitive to moods, sounds, the minutest of movements and details, as he works the bigger scene, managing it all, all at once—swiftly, expertly. He changes plans, last minute, every time. But that drives me insane. I like knowing what to expect, in detail, ahead of time, setting it rock-solid in stone. He gets over things and forgets, like the flip of a switch. That’s definitely not me. I get in deep—bit by weensiest bit dissected, unraveled and analyzed to its core. He speaks loudly (often deafeningly) on the phone, but when I’m on a call, I step out for full privacy. 

I’ve made my point, yes? Clearly, we’re opposites. And yes, you could say we fall under the extrovert-introvert profiles. Surely, albeit subconsciously, our opposing forces are what drew us magnetically together from Day 1. But there’s more to this doozy of a synergy of energies. 

The article went on to say, “Unfortunately, our society still struggles to believe it is possible for a person to be introverted and happy. That’s because our culture doesn’t yet fully understand or embrace introverted behavior as normal. To many observers, ‘introverted’ equals shy, socially awkward, or even anti-social. It means something’s off, abnormal, or even wrong. It explains why introverts are often asked ‘Are you okay?’ and ‘What’s wrong?’ in social settings.”

Summer of 2024, my husband and I spent 45 days away from home. We bounced between cities, socializing without a moment’s pause and it done me in. Those last days especially, I was marshaling all I had left of me to keep up, and appear OK. I was miserable despite the blessings of great travel, food and social recreation. I remember asking him, “Don’t you ever, I mean ever, feel the need to stop?!”

His answer was an immediate but baffled “No.”

I recoiled. I, damn near wrung of all my life force and joy. My eyes puffed, leaden, straining from exhaustion. I should mention I wasn’t sleeping much. And that ironically, when I finally had the chance to replug at nights, I couldn’t. I was devastatingly in overdrive. 

Yeah, that bloody summer bled me dry. But I managed to harness some last bit of juice and make it back to the finish line with a fresh perspective, and a Bloody Mary. 

Regarding lovely and second-time First Lady Melania, “Maybe public speaking (or public anything) just isn’t her cup of tea. Maybe she’d rather be home than chatting up dignitaries. Maybe she’s not always beaming or seeming warm and cuddly because she just doesn’t feel that way.” 

I certainly would rather be sipping tea at home than doing public anything. But she married Trump, and I married my husband.

And they chose us. So yeah, we could say as couples we’re like each half the gravity keeping things in orbit. I could say our differences are what make us strong—or at least never dull—as a couple. That their extroverted energy jolts us out of our comfort zone, and that perhaps our monkishness helps lull them into moments of stillness and quietude. I could say our energies oppose, and that together, we extroversely and introversely create a balance….

OH BUT, I WON’T.

I’m not really one for clichés. And definitely don’t want to pigeonhole myself or my husband—Melania or Trump— as one of Jung’s introvert versus extrovert types, shut the labeled box smugly and call it a day.

Nah. Instead, I’d rather think of each of us as fluid and multifaceted, not confined to exclusive categories—but constantly flowing and balancing, and maybe (possibly, hopefully) even changing. Neither of us is an “either-or” phenomenon. Perhaps I need introversion to balance my inner raucous. Perhaps he needs extroversion to excite his inner peace. Who knows!

Committing ourselves or others to a label is useless, like trying to walk on just one leg or relying only on one arm. We need both eyes to see more or both legs to keep upright. We may need our internal interplay of introversion and extroversion to function fully as ourselves. We might each express both introversion and extroversion—just in different ways.

The article ends by comparing Michelle Obama’s bubbliness and ease in the public eye to Melania’s apparent discomfort, stating “That’s never going to be Melania, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Hmm. Rather than seal the box and label it shut, as Samelson does with her article, I say why not keep our boxes open. Why assume that Melania “will never” and pin words on ourselves and others? When—just maybe—we contain it all.