I Used to be an Extrovert and Now I Need to be Alone

I had a conversation recently that made me wonder if this is a good thing or not

I am a very community-oriented person. That being said, having been raised in an individualistic society has hindered my desire to exist and intertwine with those around me. The dissonance between my upbringing and my desired lifestyle has become very apparent in recent years and I want to talk about that a bit.

A pandemic swept us up three years ago and removed us from our immediate communities. I was lucky to live with my best friend at the time but struggled with loneliness. Before the pandemic, you couldn’t catch me alone for more than the eight hours I was asleep. I loved being around others, almost to a fault. Reflecting on those times, I can now identify that my sociality was more of a defence mechanism than a personality trait.

I hated spending time on my own. I spent my formative years in a long-term relationship where I was attached at the hip to my partner. I also had trauma and conflict that I was not ready to sort out so naturally I drowned it out under the guise of extroversion. When you are around others every waking hour, you don’t need to worry about the healing you should be doing alone. I ended up inviting people into my life who ultimately worsened the internal conflict I was dealing with. It didn’t matter who was around me so long as they were around.

Come the pandemic, that safety blanket was ripped off of me, exposing all the shit I was avoiding for the better part of 2 years. A bad breakup, a toxic friendship, eating problems, mental illness, you get the picture. Later in 2020 my best friend moved away and I moved in with my partner of less than a year, shaking up the only stability I had built for myself. This isolation, while uncomfortable, helped me reckon with the fact that I hated being alone. Over time I worked on mending that hate by learning how to keep myself company through walks, making art, and accomplishing my first year of college alone, online.

I have since become not only incredibly comfortable with spending time alone, but the social and health anxiety that has built up over the past three years swung me to the other side of the spectrum, deeming a once chronic extrovert, an introvert.

Setting aside my very sensible choices for being alone, conversations with a friend have had me questioning how healthy my alone time is for me. Realistically my stamina for spending time with others has dwindled and my need to recharge after a social opportunity has increased. On top of that, I’ve had covid once, and a cold shortly after that, all on top of chronic illness. I simply can’t do much more than one activity in a day. Even going for a short walk or a coffee with a friend has me laying in bed exhausted by 2 pm. I do spend a lot of time alone due to physical limitations, but I also just love being alone, in general, these days.

Now I don’t find an issue with this, but it does become a barrier when the people around me are the opposite. I have friends who require a social output that I simply can’t meet, and I feel guilty about it. I cancel plans at the drop of a hat due to my inability to foresee how I will feel that day, and often when I do show up, I feel like a shell of myself. I simply can’t keep up.

In the years before this, back when everyone was taking health precautions seriously, my need for alone time was respected and honestly assumed by the people around me. Now, in a time where our communities have decided a very real illness has magically disappeared (spoiler alert, it hasn’t! Please mask up for the vulnerable people around you), the pressure to show up socially has returned tenfold, and boy do I feel it.

I wanted to share these thoughts with you because I know many others feel the same. Craving community while simultaneously feeling unable to be a supporting pillar is so disheartening. I want you to know that regardless of the needs of those around you, you have to care for yourself and your needs first. This is not to say that you don’t owe anyone anything, we all owe each other a whole lot of care, but we simply can’t show up for others when we aren’t even able to show up for ourselves. Community care can be defined within your capacity, and just because someone else can show up consistently, does not mean you have to do so too.

Keep easy on yourself. This life is a heavy gift to hold.

-B