I know I was withdrawn and quiet, and overall, I was unappealing as a college roommate. I hated who I was and why I was that way.
I then discovered that I was an INFJ. This realization gave me the feeling that I was not alone, and this was a very powerful moment for me.
Extroverts could walk into a room and everyone would eagerly await their humor. I, an introvert, just sat there thinking, like always.
Do not let the past dictate who you are or what your future will be. I spent my teens and early twenties buried in books and television shows.
To highly sensitive introverts like me, who struggle to stay productive while working in a busy office, using headphones is a big deal.
When I went on my first true solo trip to Australia several years ago, I realized there’s a whole other kind of being alone.
Ever since I was a child, I felt like a weirdo. In primary school, it was okay, though, because I was the weirdo that everyone knew and liked.
The “single story” of introversion is one of deficiency, suggesting that we should all strive to be extroverts. But there’s more to the story than that.
I am finally beginning to walk comfortably in my introverted skin — and it feels amazing. This happy stroll is a long way from where I was a few years ago.
After many years of overwrought self-analysis and a drawn out misunderstanding of my own needs, I now wear my self-awarded badge of introversion with honor.