The Social Stigma of Solitude
Oh, Chance-The-Rapper-Parody-Account, how I adore thee…
Oh, Emma Watson! How I adore thee, too.
“That’s like, the story of my life. Coming to realise that about myself was very empowering, because I had felt like ‘Oh my god, there must be something wrong with me, because I don’t want to go out and do what all my friends want to do’.” - Emma Watson on being an introvert
Does that look sad written down?
Last night I was listening to a podcast about a student who was struggling to “be normal” by partaking in her college’s nightlife, and I suddenly got flashbacks of the alienation I had felt in my twenties. I struggled to socialise in the same way that the rest of my peer group did and I had no idea why.
Until I read Susan Cain’s book, “Quiet”, I’d never thought anything about introversion. Based on what I’d read in mainstream media, extroverts were the cool party people and introverts were the shy weirdos. I didn’t self-identify as an introvert - I was lively and talkative - but I liked spending large periods of time alone. Nonetheless, I wanted to be a social butterfly with lots of friends, spreading my wings all over town! Who wanted to be a loner? Nobody. Who actually was a loner? Me!
I hid my love of solitude for a long time, which, hilariously, made me more awkward and anti-social. I felt guilty for declining social invitations (as if my mere absence would be threatening the rest of humanity’s ability to have a great time). And society didn’t exactly encourage solitude - it seemed anti-human and anti-community - so, I often thought “what the hell is up with me?”. But as Susan Cain observes, “Introversion is not about being anti-social, it’s about being differently social”. She states that “Introverts prefer quiet, minimally stimulating environments, while extroverts need higher levels of stimulation to feel their best”. Reading her book made me feel less strange, and less alone. I realised that all the behaviours I felt awkward about were actually connected to preserving and generating energy in a different way to how extroverts do. This helped me to change how I structured my social and work life.
Illustration by Maxine Sarah
My Old Socialising Patterns
Meet a friend for dinner once a week.
Go on a complete rager every two weeks because I’d suddenly realise “Oh, I’m very lonely. I think I need other humans to feel human!”.
Consume huge amounts of vodka.
Probably be sick when I get home because I knew zero about moderation.
Spend next day feeling elated and high off the sheer relief that I, Marina Diamandis, had survived a social event and could get back to the business of being alone.
(As you can imagine, I’m pretty relieved this is no longer my life).
I don’t think any of us are 100% introvert or extrovert; we all share traits from both sides of the spectrum. But the way in which we gain energy is the signifier. Extroverts get their energy from being with other people, whereas introverts recharge when they’re alone. According to Eysenck’s psychophysical-based theory, introverts experience higher levels of arousal in their brain, so they don’t seek or need the same levels of stimulation that extroverts do. Apparently, 30 - 50% of the are population classified as introverts, but because society favours extroverted traits, people adjust their behaviour accordingly. Extraversion has been rewarded somewhat in our culture so perhaps there is a healthy swing of the pendulum going on. Even so, there still seems to be a social stigma, or curiosity, about aloneness…
Since I was 21, I’ve gone on plenty of solo traveling trips. I never feel weird going for a swanky lunch by myself (though admittedly, this confidence has been hard won), and whenever I spot someone doing something on their own, I think “cool!”, but I also think “brave”. The bravery isn’t related to doing stuff on your own, it’s about defying the social expectations around you. The feeling that people may be looking at you, judging you, and casting assumptions about your “aloneness”. And I’m not here to say “being alone is the best!” because it’s not always, but sometimes doing trips on your own can teach you things about yourself that you wouldn’t find out if you’d gone with others. (Also, vice versa).
I’ve been a bit nervous about writing about this subject, as I imagined people might say “But you’re not an introvert. You’re a performer. A very talkative, energetic performer!”, to which I would reply, “Yes, but I spend most of my tours recharging alone in hotel rooms. Also - have you even heard my song ”Solitaire“?!”. If there is any kind of message in this post it’s to go with the flow of your natural tendencies instead of resisting them for the sake of social expectations. If I could have known more about introversion in my twenties I would have spared myself a lot of unnecessary anguish. Sometimes partying is exactly what we need, other times a night alone is more valuable.
Over the years I’ve tried to find some deep, dark underlying reason for this “unnatural” character trait but I"m happy to say there isn’t really one. The only reason I can find is an ingrained social attitude that regards solitude as strange, sad or lonely. For anyone reading this who struggles with any of the above, just know there are lots of other people who feel exactly like you. We’re all wired differently - and let me take a minute to thank God for my extrovert friends who introduce me to new people - otherwise I’d never meet anyone. Also, someone needs to set up an “Introverts Society” for crying out loud! Meetings can be held once a year (maximum. Via Skype. From the safety of our rooms.).
Share your experiences here.
titsay
snowghoul
theartofmadeline
izzy806
turnnoffyourmind
