Being the Introvert

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I like to stay in. It’s a fact.

Most of the time, my preferred night is sitting in bed with a cup of tea reading/watching a movie/doing something creative. I prefer this most days over going out and consuming alcohol only to feel like I’m close to death the next day. Don’t get me wrong, I do love nights out with friends and feeling invincible, like anything is possible – but not every fucking day.

I’m a student, so this is a bit of a harder situation to get out of. If you tell people you don’t want to go out, they try and persuade you until you either say ‘yes’ just to shut them up, or you lock yourself away in your room in hope they leave for the pub having forgot they even asked you (but then this also makes you feel a bit sad when the ‘forgotten’ part kicks in). Then after this happens a few times you’re ‘the one who never goes out’.

This is always used against you. ‘You never came out last time, you have to come out now!’ or ‘No, don’t bother asking Kate, she won’t come out, she never does’ – coincidentally, it’s usually the days people say things like that that I’m actually in the mood to go out.

Honestly, it’s not always just that I can’t be bothered. I can’t afford to go out. No, me going and not spending anything will not happen because I’ll be tempted to start drinking once I see everyone around me doing so. No, just because my student loan came in 3 days ago does not mean that I can afford a beer – it all has to go to rent.

Am I too boring? Maybe I am. And that’s where the fear kicks in. Fear that your youthful days have ran out and you’re already a miserable old woman. Bloody hell.

But my question for all of this is; why is it so bad to want to stay in?

Why are we conditioned to think that we are boring if we don’t want to go out? Why is it so bad to want to save money to keep a roof above your head? ‘A beer is only cheap and won’t affect your savings’, you say? Try telling me that when you buy a beer in Brighton which costs £6 for just one – that could buy me food for a few days.

Let me ask again, why is it so bad to want to stay in?

At what point did we think that partying and getting hammered and forgetting the night was living? Sure, it’s fun sometimes. And it helps me when I’m having stressful moments in my life, but if there is one week where I’m not up for going out, why do I feel so bad when I say ‘no’?

This isn’t shaming either side of the discussion, I just wish us introverts who (would you believe?!) actually like some time on our own, wouldn’t feel like such victims from doing so.

I’ve been like it for years. Alcohol has no bond similar to that of mine and a good old cup of tea – I’m sure that won’t change any time soon.

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