I enjoy being alone. Outside of time with my partner and the occasional interaction with a friend or family member, I am always alone, in my own thoughts and quiet. I live alone and take in the silence while I work on the blog or do my homework. I read The New Yorker or write out my intentions for the day while taking the train to school. I almost always have headphones in when I am walking down the street, and am usually cooking and listening to podcasts at home. I am an introvert towards anyone who isn’t close to me.
I wasn’t always this way. As a high schooler, I was outgoing and impulsive. I was loud, upfront, and had no boundaries with others. I went out with friends more. I never felt reserved and needed much less quiet time than I do now. Though I blame much of my evolution of self on aging, I also know that my rape experience had a huge impact on who I am as a person. I went into the hardest, most traumatizing event of my life a colorful and rambunctious human being, and came out the other side, though cleansed of depression and negativity, a monochromatic and quiet individual. I have accepted myself for who I have become and have no issues with not being the person I once was, as it is all part of the process of adulthood, but I can’t help but feel nostalgic for the days when I felt inclined to be surrounded by people and was always colorful. Literally: I had such a wide array of colors in my closet in high school, if you can believe it. It represented who I was at the time, and I never look back at old outfits and feel any sort of regret or embarrassment. I never blended in, and I was always okay with that. I don’t think I blend in now, but I would argue that I am slightly more normal than my days of wearing band shirts under cocktail dresses (which is still cool, and I highly recommend).
I’m deciding to write this now because I had these calm and solemn feelings this week, and I noticed them the most when curled up and reading an essay on the train home Tuesday night. I had my headphones in without music, and I was reading an essay about a woman with a skin condition that led her to live in the dark for a decade. And I felt the happiest in this situation. That’s how I know I’ve become an introvert. I thrive the most when I am alone or in one-on-one situations. My sixteen-year-old self would have never thought this would happen, but she can kiss my ass.
Until next post. xx
P.S. saw a frog the size of my face when we were shooting this and I went after it! best part of the day because they are my favorite.