Ever since I can remember, I have had social anxiety. As a child, I would refuse to leave my mother’s side to the point that I would miss birthday parties, sleepovers, and even school. No matter how much I wanted to do something, my anxiety would hold me as its prisoner. As I grew up, little by little, my anxiety began to slowly fade. It wasn’t keeping me from doing things I wanted to do as much as it had in the past. But even though I was able to do more fun things, I still felt like something was missing. It didn’t feel like I was having as much fun as everyone else.
In high school I was never a “popular” girl. I mostly kept to myself, and only ever had one or two really close friends. The only “parties” I went to were during my senior year and consisted of five to 10 close friends, sitting around playing Cards Against Humanity. Some people may say that these “parties” I am talking about don’t actually count, but these are really the only kind of party I have ever enjoyed. I'd rather hang out with a few close friends than be surrounded by a bunch of acquaintances.
When I got to college, I was excited about the idea of going to a “real college party,” so I went to the first one I got invited to. As soon as I arrived, I knew I was not interested, and thankfully the rest of the people I went with felt the same way. The way I saw it, it was a sweaty fraternity basement filled with about 80 percent guys, who were all playing pong and listening to music so loud that you can’t hear the person next to you, even when they are yelling in your ear. My friends and I left within 15 minutes, so it’s safe to say that this was not a great introduction to the college party scene.
Over the following two years, I attended parties occasionally, but still never understood what all the hype was about. Was I missing something? At times, I’ve thought that maybe I’m not popular enough, or “fun” enough, or not good enough in some way shape or form. At times, I’ve felt like maybe I was missing out on something by not going to parties with everyone else, but in the end, if I really don’t enjoy going, what am I missing out on?
Anyway, I’ve realized over the past three years of college that I am definitely not a party girl, but that is okay. I’d rather stay home and have a wine night with a close friend than get blackout drunk with countless people I don’t know. I’d rather go to the movie theater with my boyfriend than have strangers grope me on the dance floor at the local bar. Maybe it’s my childhood anxiety kicking in that makes me not enjoy parties as much as everyone else, or maybe it’s just part of my personality. Regardless of the reason, I have come to terms with the fact that I’m a little different. I no longer feel badly or feel that I am weird for not wanting to go out every Thursday, Friday, and Saturday night. I am comfortable with doing what I want to do, and having that peace of mind is better than any party could ever be.
