There is something exhilarating, yet beyond challenging, that occurs during our early stages of discovering who we are. This is the time when no longer are we able to hold fast to our upbringing, but instead are kicked straight out of the comfortable nest we were raised in and forced to endure this thing called “responsible adulthood."

Among this eye-opening self-realization, we begin to recognize the bones in our flesh and the heart beating in our chest (no rhyme intended, but if Drake decides to use this in his next mixtape, I can’t say I would be mad about it).

During this time we are confronted with the reality that we must test waters to see what kind of personality we have. I’ve realized that myself and those in my community are challenged to choose which personality we “identify” most with, which then will dictate who will and who will not be in your closest circle of friendship.

And this is when, lo and behold, the battle between extroversion and introversion takes place.

Those who seek constant human interaction, who feed off the energy of those around them and feel anxiety rising at the thought of ever being alone with just themselves are what we would call an extrovert.

On the other hand, we have those whose anxiety increases the second a gathering, large or small, is taking place in their space. Or who are drained immediately they hit the brink of too much time spent with even one individual. This is what we would call an introvert.

There’s something about these two terms that limits who we are, because the minute we claim to be one or the other and place our life’s decisions on these terms, we are automatically putting restrictions on ourselves and giving others permission to do the same.

Not that either extroverted individuals, nor introverted, are invalid in their concerns of their energy levels, but so often I find that when we put too much weight on where our personalities land, we excuse ourselves from the freedom and health in experiencing the other side of the spectrum for a bit.

Although you may feel the innate urge to constantly retract into your shell and hide away from the world forever, that’s not how we were designed to live. We were designed to live among our community, among even just a small amount of people who have given us the freedom to bear burdens of life with us, and to allow the overthinking in our minds to have an outlet.

And there are those who are so caught up in needing people too much that we forfeit the beauty in being alone for even just a moment. Even when our very energy thrives from the energy and hype of others, we are unknowingly missing out on a time to truly know ourselves in the calm and quiet. We don’t even realize that how we view ourselves often is based on how those around us view us, because we haven’t taken the time to consider it for ourselves.

So with all this to say, none of this is easy; to stretch outside our comfort zones and experiment with the opposite end of how we identify ourselves.

I have found myself dwelling some place in the middle. If you would have asked me six-months ago whether I was an extrovert or an introvert, I wouldn't even be able to let you finish before I could excitedly chat about my extroverted lifestyle and how I always always always need somebody around to make me feel content. But more recently, I have found an undeniable rest in taking time for myself, or how my good friend put it to me once, “dating myself” every once in a while.

Discovering my interests and my passions by taking time to myself has shown me things about who I am that I would have never known had I not taken the time for me.

Maintaining a healthy balance is key, and we were never meant to live in complete solitude, nor to live an unrested lifestyle where we forget who we even are behind closed doors because there is always someone around. So let’s challenge each other to meet in the middle some days, all the while taking the time that we need to refuel how we need to.

Because if we don’t stretch beyond our comfort zones, there will never be room for growth.