I’m at the age when a majority of my social functions are engagement parties, bridal showers, weddings & receptions, baby showers, and first birthdays. I haven’t gone to a club in the last six months, and part of me really misses that; the other half of me wants to line up for confession at the thought of going to a club. I’m okay for the first hour or two, but it’s all bridal and baby talk and I find the beer cooler and pop a top sooner rather than later. The joke for this afternoon was “I’d have told you there was a pina colada, but you’re not a girly girl”. There were some form of fruity pina colada flavored drinks in another cooler, but all I had in mind was a real one, so just kept at the Heineken. Yep, wearing a red & white skirt with lacey blouse and pink cameo earrings – definitely not the picture of girly!
As an introvert, I treasure my Saturdays since I typically go hiking for 3 or 4 hours at a time. By.my.self. And it’s an hour’s drive north to Malibu, and back down again. It’s my all-day activity to shut-up-stop-thinking-about-work. Trust me, it takes about 4 or 5 miles of Californian chaparral to achieve that peace and serenity. Then I top it off with a bunch of Mass on Sunday. I’m getting myself off-topic; introverts need time alone to recharge our social batteries, and working 40hrs/week with kids, parents, foster parents, teachers, and giving counseling to all of them…well, I need downtime, alone time. Parties are energy-suckers, so I grab bits of time here and there: being the only woman with a beer, hiding behind the lens to take pictures, etc. Others see me alone during these times and come up and start talking to me. I’ve found stuffing my mouth with food and keeping my eyes on my plate almost allows me the same privacy. I’m recalling distinctly how an acquaintance came up to me as I’m loading a plastic plate with pulled pork and salad. She’s asking me questions about work, and my student debt and with I’m “still doing it”. Like, babe, it’s called a vocation and discernment. You can say the word, convent is not a dirty word. But more than anything, I’m eating. Let me eat. If catching up with me is so important, call me, text me, meet me one-on-one for hiking, tea or shopping downtown.
So, extroverts, the next time you see an introvert by themselves at a party, leave them alone. They like it. Trust me.