You won’t find me talking to a lot of people at once or being the center of attention. You won’t see me surrounded by friends and you probably wouldn’t even notice me if we were in a room full of people. In fact, you won’t find me at a party or any kind of social gathering because I’m the person who is almost always by themselves. I occupy myself by reading a book, writing something in my journal or looking at my phone. Anything to make it seem like I’m not alone. It’s funny when this backfires and actually makes me look unapproachable. I make eye contact and say hi when I see someone I know, but I can’t find the right words to start a meaningful conversation with them. I go through all these scenarios in my mind where some kind of positive interaction plays out, but there’s an unknown fear inside myself that can’t make it physically happen. I am the definition of introverted.

It’s not that I don’t have any friends, there are people in my life who I love spending time with. Turning those friendships into something closer is where the problem lies. I show who I am on the surface—bright, bubbly and optimistic—but I get scared to scratch it and go any deeper. There is truly no good reason why I do this, maybe it’s fear of rejection or maybe it’s hard for me to be trusting. I like talking and being social, but I’m a much better listener. I let other people take the lead because that’s what comfortable for me and breaking out of that realm is much easier said than done. The relationships I do have are wonderful and I wouldn’t trade them for anything. I’m still discovering who I am as a person so it’s possible that my ability to open up to others will change with time.

For a while, I thought being shy was like a curse. A curse where you know exactly what you want to be but there’s a huge wall in the way and you can’t just kick it down. You have to take smaller steps and inch your way to being something different. When I was younger, I was extremely talkative and loved meeting new people, and I honestly have no idea when that changed. The “when” and the past isn’t really important anymore though, since now I’m living in and focusing on my present. If I’m going to break down that wall, there’s no point in looking back anymore.

I’ve heard that my shyness comes off as me appearing like I don’t want to talk to people or that I think I’m better than others. That couldn’t be further from the truth. When I try to be different, everything is so unfamiliar to the point where I revert back to my old habits. Maybe it’s not obvious, but I have the motivation to become comfortable enough with myself and unfold the layers that I’ve built up for years. Like anything that’s worth the effort, it’s a process, but also the start of a journey in a way.

Since I started college, I knew this aspect of me would be challenged. Finding friends and keeping them doesn’t come naturally to me. But if there’s anything I’ve learned in my four years, it’s that there’s nothing wrong with admitting to yourself that you’re happy the way you are. I might be painfully shy and not always know how to talk to people, but if I was someone different I don’t even know if I’d recognize myself. Introversion is being in touch with your mind, and I’d much rather be connected with my mind than anything else. It turns out that shyness isn’t a curse at all, it’s a way of life where you listen to and observe everything that happens around you. When you start becoming aware of the small forces that surround and change you every day, it hardly seems fair to look at shyness as a bad quality. If there’s anyone who feels the way I do, I want you to know that it’s perfectly okay to be shy. You don’t have to be so hard on yourself, because who you naturally are is unique and beautiful.