Today I'm thankful for alone time!
If you're an extrovert, you'll think this is nuts, or even rude. But, you see, you are recharged and rejuvenated by time spent socializing. Being alone drains you, and whenever you find yourself, well, by yourself, you're itching for that period of time to be over.
That's fine! You do you! To introverts like me, though, time spent solo after is like a drink of ice water in the desert. (Ask me how I know!) And I'm so grateful to be able to take it when it's available to me.
A lot of people I know are shocked to hear that I'm actually an introvert. Yes, I'm a pretty open book, even on some pretty personal topics. Yes, I'm often the one cracking jokes, usually while dressed in some kind of Day-Glo monstrosity of an outfit that you couldn't miss if you preferred to. And yes, I have a very distinctive snorting laugh that really stands out. Add in all the neon hair color, and it would be fair to say I'm pretty comfortable being noticed.
And yet, that's not who I am all the time.
I've always been like this. I've always hungered for empty time; empty space. As far back as I can recall, I've had this abiding Greta Garbo streak in me, just wanting to be alone for part of each day. I remember spending action-packed weekends with my beloved great-aunt Connie, going from festival to museum to movie to restaurant each day, and complaining to my mom when I got home that we never had time to catch our breath. What kind of six-year-old can't keep up with her great aunt, who's pushing 60?
Well … an introverted six-year-old.
So my mom taught me to advocate for myself - to set boundaries, in today's parlance. And she was right! Everyone should know - and be comfortable setting - their boundaries. But this one can be a toughie! It's hard to hear someone say the word “alone” and not immediately translate that to “not with me,” even when that's not what is meant.
I do acknowledge that “alone time” has a bit of a branding problem. A couple of weeks ago, Dave's very wise therapist listened sympathetically to my longing, slightly deranged soliloquy about my desire to spend a few hours by myself each day. As I described, in ever more yearning tones, the flexibility to get unapologetically lost in a book, to take a nap, to drive around aimlessly, or to do anything I might take a mind to without feeling the need to be “on,” or to qualify my time, she advised me to refer to these periods instead as “down time,” or “decompression time.” That way, such important people in my life as, oh, I don't know, my fiancé, don't get the idea that I don't enjoy their company.
Because I do! Absolutely. In fact, I feel confident speaking for the vast majority of introverts in declaring that we all love being around our favorite people. That's what makes them our favorites! It's just that our brains work better when we give them, well, down time to process information and stimuli. Then, once they do, we're feeling restored and ready - even eager - to charge out into the world again. That's when time spent socializing, or just at home with family and friends, really is the connection we crave.
So I'm very grateful for, ahem, “decompression time!” And, hey, as we prepare to travel for holiday get-togethers this week, here's a tip: If your sister-in-law slips out to “walk the dog real quick,” if your favorite cousin excuses himself “for a smoke,” if your aunt steps behind a door, saying vaguely that she'll “be right back,” don't ask questions. Let them go. They'll be back soon, feeling much better.
Speaking of which, I guess it's time to let myself out of this spare bedroom - I'm craving connection!