Freshman year of high school, I sat in my physical education class waiting for role to be called and listened to the buzz of conversations and snippets of gossip filling the air around me. It seemed as if everyone had something so pressing to share from the weekend prior. They talked about John Doe’s party last Saturday and their plans for Friday night’s football game. Just as their speech never slowed, it sounded like their lives didn’t either. I felt trapped in a vacuum; I felt different.

This was not the first time I had experienced this, not even close. Throughout elementary and middle school, I constantly rejected invitations to see movies with classmates or to go to a “legendary” sock hop. The year just prior to that instance in P.E. class, I sat alone at a friend’s birthday party on the brink of tears because I was so uncomfortable. I thought I was weird and a freak for not enjoying the constant presence of people, even friends. For a couple of years, I created my own bubble of social anxiety surrounding any event that left my comfort zone. I did not find any of the stereotypical teenage stuff such as dances or big parties the slightest bit appealing because they all involved a level of socialization that I was uncomfortable with at the time. Anything remotely out of my comfort zone filled me with dread and apprehension. After I grew into a more confident version of myself, the anxiety aspect of socializing melted away, and I was able to go to more events with different people and actually have a great time. By the time I started my junior year, I thought my social struggles were all behind me, but they just evolved into an internal struggle.

In the fall semester of junior year, my internal struggle began to manifest itself externally. I had finished all of my homework for the next day, Monday, I had just had a very fun weekend filled with friends, I was stressed, and this had happened before. I sat on my bed sobbing for a while wondering what was wrong with me and why I felt so empty. I reflected back on my weekend: band camp on Friday night and Saturday morning, working on a group project in the afternoon, and church on Sunday morning followed by lunch and bible study that evening with my youth group. I had had little to no time by myself; I was surrounded by people the entire weekend after spending the whole week of school with them too. That was the first time I truly noticed my introversion. I realized that for my personal sanity, I required time to recharge and be alone. I realized that I am not wired to be a constant socialite. This realization was so simple and freeing to me. My course of action was clear: make time for myself.

As much as I do need time for myself, I really do cherish my time doing life with other people. Community is essential, and it is a complete blessing to have people to love. I've found solace in small groups and core conversations. I'm the number one fan of grabbing a cup of coffee and catching up with a friend or oh-so-special movie nights with some of my favorite ladies. I will always be eager to witness someone's story and share life with those around me.

As I venture into new beginnings with college just around the corner, I'll have to find a new balance. I'll make new friends and set up a new, exciting routine for my life. I'll have to take in those quiet moments and learn to embrace solitude among the crowds.

The more I have researched and educated myself on my own psychology and mental make-up, the more connected I feel. Maybe not connected to the stereotypical teen life, but I am now more connected to myself than ever before. I have become self-aware enough to know when I can or can’t squeeze in that last minute outing or when I need to take a rain-check on that invitation. My introversion has helped me to balance my life and understand my limits. In the end, introversion cannot be equivocated with social anxiety or shyness. On the contrary, it has served as a beautiful tool to me. For the sake of personal sanity, I am forced to slow down and rest with myself. That time has proved invaluable to me. I will forever hold the opinion that there are few things in this world that can top a solitary early morning walk or stargazing at night with a cup of tea and your pup.