This post is (mostly) for introverts.
Everyone has limits. Your mind and body can only handle so much before you become useless to the world. Across the introvert-extrovert scale, people’s limits vary. Introverts “may have strong social skills and enjoy parties and business meetings, but after a while wish they were home in their pajamas.” (Susan Cain, Quiet). For extroverts, maybe a lot of alone time makes you crazy.
You can’t always tell what your limits are until you cross them. Then you find yourself tearing up for no reason or flying off the handle over something small. Other times you can tell when you’re approaching your limits, so what can you do about it?
Sometimes you’re stuck. When you’re caring for children you can’t lock yourself in a room to read. In the middle of working, you can’t just leave. Sometimes relationships require conversations or energy that you barely feel you have. Then there’s the voice in your head that berates you: “it’s only 10 pm, how can you want to leave? What if you miss something fun? You rarely get to hang out with these people: live it up!”
I was at a bar with coworkers. I’d planned the happy hour and I was excited to be there. After three hours there were six people people who stayed for four more hours. I was ready to leave after three, but I stayed. I didn’t have fun. I wanted to go home and I was irritable and anxious. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I wanted to be alone.
People gave me a hard time when I left. “Is it past your bedtime?” “You’re such a grandma.” Comments like these make me feel defensive. I want to retort, can you just let me leave without the patronizing smile, eye roll, and comment about how I hate fun?
But I prefer confidence and humor to defensiveness, so I remind myself that these comments have a variety of meanings, and I can respond with alacrity:
- People love spending time with you because you’re enjoyable to be around. Smile and mention that you’re needed elsewhere, that you can’t entertain everyone all the time, that you’ve got plans with other people who adore you.
- Everyone (not just misery) loves company. People will always urge you to join whatever they’re doing. You can’t do it all. Shrug.
- You leaving makes others feel guilty that they’re still out. Ignore. Other people’s guilt is not your problem. You owe them nothing.
You don’t need to explain why you’re leaving but if you want to, “other plans,” “I’m ready to leave,” or “things to do at home” work for me. Energy and social stamina are applauded in our culture, but they are not the only way to be. Know your limits and respect them. Other people’s approval is not your concern.
“Spend your free time the way you like, not the way you think you’re supposed to. Stay home on New Year’s Eve if that’s what makes you happy. Skip the committee meeting. Cross the street to avoid making aimless chitchat with random acquaintances. Read. Cook. Run. Write a story. Make a deal with yourself that you’ll attend a set number of social events in exchange for not feeling guilty when you beg off” (Susan Cain, Quiet).
Listen to your integrity. If you’re not having fun anymore, you’ve crossed your limit. Come back home.
(Photo credit here)
