The greatest part about being introverted is hearing others try to explain and validate my behaviour, behaviour which they perceive to be weird.
I’ve been told it’s because of my star sign, that the strange horse-man that represents my mortal being is responsible for my preference for seclusion.
I’ve been told it’s because my developmental years were spent with a single mother, and that the lack of an early father figure has broken some Freudian mechanism in my head.
Truthfully, in an effort to explain my preference and behaviour, people have told me everything from “I’m too short” to “I’m on some end of some spectrum”.
Hilariously, it’s all wrong, and the answer is really so much simpler than any of these other explanations.
I like consistency.
That’s it. I’m a creature of habit, and I like going into situations knowing what is going to happen, and when it is going to happen again. I’m at my most comfortable when I can predict the different facets of my life, and plan accordingly.
Being introverted means gathering your energy from isolation, rather than from social experiences. When I’m alone, when I’m “gathering my energy”, I can control everything; there are no external factors to confound my routine. My house stays as clean as I need it, my pre-planned meals wait for me in the fridge, and my computer is always within arms’ reach. Everything is in its right place, and it stays there just for me. It’s consistent.
And really, that’s it. I enjoy my time alone over time with others, because I enjoy keeping as much of my life in control as possible. If that preference is because of the weird horse-man in the stars that decided my birth, then so be it. I won’t argue.
…as long as he stays consistent.