My introversion is ruining my social life
Why is it so hard to let go of our fantasy selves?
Everything I do lately seems to focus on the act of self-preservation. Call me a homesteader now. It’s like I’m curing and canning and tinkering with recipes on how to handle my existence so my mind and moods don’t rot.
The problem is the thing giving me life also seems to be slowly killing me.
Being surrounded by supportive community is very important to me. But I’ve been stuck in a difficult place over the last two years. If I’m not careful, being social can siphon the gas out of my tank.
But I think there’s a shift and I’m onto something. Only time and experience will prove if this works. They say the first step is awareness.
While having coffee with a new friend a couple weeks ago, she asked me if I’m an introvert or an extrovert.
I didn’t exactly know. And this question has sent me spiraling ever since.
My mental time machine traveled back to my 20s and 30s when I’d say with full confidence that I was an extrovert. I loved an all night hang sesh with a group of friends. If you asked me to after-work drinks, you can count me in. I keep in touch with friends from every place I’ve worked, schooled, and in between. And while I’ve significantly scaled back my social calendar in my 40s, I’m still a sucker for hosting. I’m the unofficial prez of my book club. I am the first to RSVP to my women’s full moon circle gatherings. I can’t help it, I dig spending time with my peeps.
Yet the reality of an active social life, at age 421, is exhausting. But I still want to be that old self even though my body is telling me I cannot be her anymore.
My FANTASY SELF is the social queen and, up until recently, I believed I was lacking because I couldn’t handle the title anymore.
I thought I was an extrovert.
And I realize I am not. Why is it hard to let go of an idea of who I used to be?
I thought an extrovert is outgoing and likes being around others. Yeah… it’s me! I lean into a good convo. I enjoy getting to know you, especially if you’ve got interesting things to say and have a good sense of humor. My laugh vibrates a room and my reactions to stories shock some people (help me, I do the Elaine shove when I get excited).
But when I’m done with social hour, I get tired. Too too tired. Sad and wiped out. I found myself picking up the pieces to my old socialite self. Instead of being reinvigorated by socializing, socializing would send me nursing a hangover — and I don’t drink!
So I’ve limited my social activities. I am very choosy about who I spend time with, how many people I spend time with, for how long, and how often I do it. I think of groups and certain people as varying degrees of energy; which ones drain me versus fill my battery?
It’s no wonder I opt for an Irish exit2, my body tells me I’ve got a finicky social cap and must ejector seat out of every party.
Over the last few months, I started doing something new after spending time with a group of people. It came intuitively but I make it a point to do it with purpose.
It’s quite simple, really. And it seems silly it took years of suffering to figure out this recipe.
I put on headphones to block out external noise, a shut-off from audible stimulus. Then I go into a room to be by myself. What I do in there doesn’t matter as long as I keep it chill and I am by myself. Sometimes I nap or journal or read or watch a show I’ve seen a million times before.
That’s it.
As of late, this ritual seems to do the trick.
All this time I had a different definition of extroversion and introversion. I was only looking at half of the equation and didn’t examine what recharges me. Even though I like being social, what’s important is what fuels me, which is the time spent alone afterward.
According to a Dictionary.com article exploring the difference between the two, the author gives an example describing me entirely: “although people assume she’s an extrovert because she can be the life of the party, she actually is quite introverted in that she needs alone time to recharge after group events.”
WHAT. This ME.
I love socializing AND I need solitude to fill my cup again. I believed I was in purgatory with my social life. Not anymore, people. I learned something new. During a rainy day coffee date I found out about a shift in a definition I gave too much meaning to in my head.
Two things can be true at the same time. I love hanging out with you AND when it’s over I need to peace out to regulate myself.
Which one are you, an introvert, extrovert, ambivert? How do you recharge?
technically still 41-years-old. Tell me I don’t look a day over 42!
An Irish goodbye or exit is leaving a party without saying goodbye or notifying the host. Correction, I always say goodbye to the host but you can rely on me not saying goodbye to anyone else!