You might not be an introvert or an extrovert—I’m neither.
I used to wear my self-proclaimed, personality-tested title of “extrovert” as a badge of pride. There were no plans I’d reject, no opportunity I’d miss, and few moments spent alone that weren’t consumed by planning The Next Thing. (My wallet hated me.)
Was/am I really an extrovert? Maybe I’m bad at spending time with myself? Or just eager to be around others? The answer didn’t matter, as long as being social was a valuable personality trait that I could cash in on for my own self-esteem.
And then—March 2020. I Zoomed, I Facetimed, and I took long, long socially-distanced walks. And when I returned to a highly-adapted version of my former social life toward the end of the year, I found myself exhausted after an hour of small talk. I started to fear that being with the people I loved wasn’t bringing me the joy it used to.
The pandemic and resulting lockdown became a time for everyone to take a good, long look in the mirror and ask ourselves the hard question:
Do I really care that I can’t go out right now?
I don’t mean to equate socializing to extroversion and isolation to introversion. For anyone unfamiliar with the true root of the terms, extroverts feed off the energy of others—sort of like communal, less-toxic dementors—while introverts recharge in the comfort of solitude. And as with any polarizing opposites, there’s a sliding scale in between A and B where the majority of us reside.
Most of my friends and family grappled with loneliness, many with depression and/or anxiety, and everyone outwardly questioned the future as we adapted to the New Normal. With the two-year anniversary of the start of the pandemic rapidly approaching, I’m coming to terms with a superficial but hard truth of my own future—now that I no longer view it as failure, I like recharging alone. So—call me introverted?
In reality, our social capabilities fluctuate
A Forbes’ contributing writer specializing in emotional intelligence best addressed the outdated debate of extrovert/introvert: what I call a sliding scale, they call a continuum, noting that most people fall somewhere in between. And rather than proclaim ourselves as one or the other, it’s likely healthier to accept that while our formed personalities don’t change, our social preferences might.
During a time when there were fewer plans to reject, I was able to enjoy moments alone and explore how I wanted to spend them without feeling guilty that I was turning anything down, or fear that I was missing out.
Psychologists confirmed lockdown affected this fluctuation
“The isolating nature of lockdown is likely to have some kind of impact on our levels of introversion,” a counseling psychologist told Metro UK. Extroverts quarantined with others may have found themselves seeking time alone to recharge, or needing additional contact outside of the home to cope. Introverts may have been less likely to reach out to others and fallen victim to loneliness, unarmed with the communicative coping mechanisms extroverts rely on. To sum it up:
Okay … but I still feel somewhere in the middle
Despite having the pandemic to blame for my fluctuating social preferences, I still felt confused. Part of me wanted to be in a room with all of my friends and friends of friends (in a dream state where transmissible illness did not exist), while the other part was content to live in whatever world I was streaming on HBO at the time.
“How social you are is largely driven by dopamine, the brain’s feel-good hormone” the Forbes’ contributor wrote. Since everyone has different levels of dopamine-fueled stimulation, we therefore react to social situations that trigger this differently—people with naturally higher levels of stimulation often shy away from extra social engagement to avoid feeling overwhelmed, making them more introverted by nature, while those with lower levels supplement by engaging in more social situations. These levels of simulation fluctuate—hence why sometimes we look for external situations to cure our boredom or avoid them in order to quell our anxiety.
There’s actually a term for this: Ambivert
The majority of people—two-thirds according to a Wharton scholar—don’t strongly identify as introverts or extroverts, but instead embrace the continuum described above. These people, ambiverts, have both introverted and extroverted tendencies, and the side of the scale they lean toward varies with circumstance.
And yes, there is a personality assessment for this, too…
*The questions below were first published in Forbes.
If you’re questioning your level of introversion or extroversion, you might be an ambivert. The prompts below, published in Forbes, help determine an ambivert:
1. I can perform tasks alone or in a group. I don’t have much preference either way.
2. Social settings don’t make me uncomfortable, but I tire of being around people too much.
3. Being the center of attention is fun for me, but I don’t like it to last.
4. Some people think I’m quiet, while others think I’m highly social.
5. I don’t always need to be moving, but too much down time leaves me feeling bored.
6. I can get lost in my own thoughts just as easily as I can lose myself in a conversation.
7. Small talk doesn’t make me uncomfortable, but it does get boring.
8. When it comes to trusting other people, sometimes I’m skeptical, and other times, I dive right in.
9. If I spend too much time alone, I get bored, yet too much time around other people leaves me feeling drained.
There’s good news if you find yourself answering ‘yes’ to much of the above, like me: we’re adaptable, we’re capable, and, most importantly, we’re on track to becoming a bit more self-aware.
