The Care and Keeping of Introverts

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My junior year of college, I studied abroad with one of my best friends. It was one of the best experiences of my life, but also very difficult. Not because of Kayla or homesickness or missing my then-boyfriend—but because I didn't truly understand one of the core aspects of my identity: my introversion. 

By that point in my life, I no longer believed the false equivalence of introversion and shyness (I'd taken the Myers-Briggs, so I knew being introverted meant I derive energy from being alone), but I also didn't really understand how introverted I truly was, as I've always been a loud and opinionated person around those with whom I'm comfortable. My sophomore year, I didn't have a great roommate match, so I chalked up my moodiness and lack of restfulness to that personality clash. Then, the first semester of junior year, I had a single room and loved it—but again, I connected that more to not having a roommate doing bothersome things and my being able to control everything in my space (first child problems) than to anything else. So that spring, I figured living in a room (that wouldn't need to be decorated, so I would have nothing to control freak over) with one of my best friends in Oxford would work out great.

I was wrong.

Disclaimer: Kayla is one of the loveliest people I have ever met, and she was a great roommate—in fact, we're going to be apartment-mates next year. My misery was 100% my own fault.

 In Oxford, Kayla and I lived in a dorm-style shared room, and the first few weeks were fine. We were jet lagged and flung into orientations and lectures and exploring. However, soon enough, I noticed a strange nagging in the back of my mind. We spent quite a lot of time together in our room because going to Oxford and writing an essay every week requires some actual studious behavior. Pretty much the only time we weren't together in the room, in fact, was twice a week for a few hours when Kayla went to a morning lecture and an afternoon tutorial. I found myself waking up early just to sit in the room alone for those morning lectures and resenting her when she decided to skip. By the halfway point of our time in Oxford, I started suffering from headaches and insomnia, and I just couldn't figure out why. 

It was only after taking a more comprehensive personality test that I read this: "Friends and colleagues will come to think of [my type—INFJ, -A/-T, or Advocates] as quiet Extraverted types, but they would all do well to remember that Advocates need time alone to decompress and recharge, and to not become too alarmed when they suddenly withdraw." This was the first time I put a number (98% at the time) to how introverted I was (and read about why I'm often mistyped by coworkers as an extravert), and I felt understood on a new level. As I read more about my specific type, I began to realize what had gone so wrong with Kayla the past semester. I wasn't taking care of my introverted soul and the physical toll was clear.

Yes, that's me staring sadly into a lily pond in the Oxford Botanical Garden.

I've been living alone for the past year as I pursue my MFA at MSU and have used this opportunity to develop healthy habits regarding my introversion, habits that I will hopefully be able to continue when I return to shared living with Kayla in the fall. For all you fellow extreme introverts out there (or partners/friends/family members of us introverts), this is my guide to staying sane in this relational world:

1. It's important to find out how introverted you really are.

I suggest taking a test like this one on 16Personalities to find out the percentage introverted you are. Just because you are introverted doesn't mean that you are 98% introverted like I am. I have friends who fall more in the middle of the spectrum, and they require much less of a polarizing schedule of socializing and alone time. 

2. Don't be afraid to say 'no' sometimes.

I've really had to embrace this advice this year. I'm that person who thinks that if I say 'no' once, people won't invite me anywhere ever again. But when you are balancing a social life, grad school, and teaching, you're gonna have to skip some stuff. Last week, one day I had one-on-one student conferences from 8 am to 3 pm, class, then hung out with friends until around 9:30 that night. The next day, after a few more work/school-related responsibilities, I had to turn down an invitation to dinner because I knew I would be miserable all day if I didn't go home and hermit for a few hours. So to anyone I ever turn down an invitation from: it's probably just because I've reached my socialization threshold for the week—I do actually enjoy doing things!

3. Learn to recognize your body's signals that you need alone time.

This was a pretty honest representation of how crazy I felt by the end of that semester abroad with no alone time—even the Oxford Botanical Garden wasn't making me feel much better. Look at those bags under my eyes!

In addition to the mental signs I mentioned earlier (irritability, resentment, etc.), your body will often physically react to oversocialization if you are high on the introvert spectrum. For me, I experience extreme fatigue first—I can fall asleep at 9 pm on nights like that. If I push through that signal and keep socializing, I wake up with what feels like a hangover (or so I can assume) the next day. Brain fog, a headache, sluggish muscles, and difficulty concentrating all hit me like a pile of bricks. The next stage for me (one that I only experienced sophomore year and in Oxford and luckily haven't since) is insomnia or restless sleep. I either can't fall asleep or no matter how much I sleep, I still wake up tired. Nowadays, I do my best to seek out alone time after that first physical signal, or be mindful about my socialization/alone time balance before it even gets to that point.

4. Alone time can mean different things for different people.

So that magic word—alone time—is key for introverts. We need it to recharge and be functioning human beings. However, one thing I learned is that alone time means very different things for other people than it means for me. Some of my other introverted friends can recharge by chilling in a coffee shop with their headphones in for a few hours. If you're like me, you might only be able to recharge by being alone in a familiar, comfortable environment. I make sure to have at least one day a week (normally, my writing day) where I don't have to leave my apartment or see anyone because yes, I'm that introverted.

5. Recognize who drains your energy more than others and budget alone time accordingly.

There are certain people in my life with whom I can spend time and hardly notice a drain on my energy: my family, my fiancé, a few very close friends. I've known all of these people for years, and I've learned that I can spend the day with them and not have to budget for a whole day of alone time to recharge afterwards. Again, this is very contingent on personality type and degree of introversion: you might never notice a difference between the amount of energy a party versus one-on-one hangout drains from you. Personally, I need that day of recharging if I go to an MFA party, but an hour of alone time will suffice if I go to a celebration with the friends I've had since high school. 

Bonus: This one's usually specific to my personality type (INFJ, -A, -T), but don't be discouraged if it's difficult for you to make friends or you only have a small group of very close friends.

I've always been self conscious of how difficult it is for me to integrate into the social life of a new workplace or school environment. Us INFJs have a hard time getting to know people because we have a paradoxical idea of friendships: we aren't good at opening up and being socially assertive, but we also only forge relationships with people if we know and trust them deeply. I wouldn't worry too much though, as I've certainly found this description to be true: "Advocates don’t require a great deal of day-to-day attention—for them, quality trumps quantity every time, and over the years they will likely end up with just a few true friendships, built on a richness of mutual understanding that forges an indelible link between them."

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