Ever since I was little, I’ve been a big talker. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been able to talk and talk and talk until my cheeks hurt and my throat feels dry. I smile and laugh a lot, even to strangers, sometimes. However, talking exhausts me. Socializing, in general, does that to me, but it doesn’t mean I don’t love people or that I’m anti-social. I only need to regain energy by being alone from time to time, and it’s always been a struggle for me to accept that.
It started when I was in middle school. I’d panic if people seemed to forget about me for a second, but on the other hand, I couldn’t “be cool” all the time. I felt really comfortable reading The Princess Diaries in the school library, but I knew that, if I just sat and read all day, I would lose my friends. So I would get up and make up topics of conversation in my head so I wouldn’t feel so awkward all the time. Those were dark days for me, because I couldn’t accept myself as I was. I had to be like them. I had to belong. (Spoiler: I belonged, as I was. Those friends were by my side through my depression. I just couldn’t see it.)
Things got slightly better in high school, because my friends were mostly as awkward as I was. I could feel that they were figuring themselves out as well. Oh, my. Those were happy days. I didn’t have that many friends, but they were all very close to my heart. There was no stupid small talk or awkwardness, even though we were pretty silly most of the time.
However, most of them are highly extroverted, and they prefer going to big parties and clubbing all night than, you know, just sitting around talking in a small party. And that freaking exhausts me. Not that I can’t have fun at clubs, it’s just that, if I go to a lot of those parties, I start to hate them because I have no room to be myself there. And that kinda set me apart from them. It hurts sometimes, but that’s life, and I still love them a lot.
In college, I’ve found more people I can relate to, so right now, I’m really happy with the state of my life and I feel like I don’t have to pretend anymore! I still kept two of my best friends as well. They really get me. And my boyfriend, too. We are happy as long as we’re together, whether we’re discussing the ways of life or we’re quiet and gazing at the stars.
I still have to plan ahead to meet people, or else I'll get very anxious. Sometimes that's really stinky because I feel like other people don't do that, they just go with the flow, but I don't work like that. And it's okay.
I’m an outgoing introvert. I love people and I have fun talking, but I need my alone time (something my family sometimes doesn’t understand) or else, I’ll be all exhausted, annoyed and insufferable. And I’m okay with that. Even when people ask me why I've been inside my room all day, or if it's because of them that I want to be alone.
I'm writing this so that anyone who can relate with my story can know that they're not alone. Being an introvert doesn't mean that you're anti-social or unhappy. It's totally okay and normal! Remember to respect yourself and your needs, and to accept who you are - that's my advice.
lots of love,
Mariana
(this was adapted from a tumblr post I just wrote!)
