introvert

In all honesty, dating makes me cringe. Which is generally why I avoid it at all costs. For me, the thought of small talk with a complete stranger in an awkward setting makes me want to disappear entirely. I’ve always been the definition of a true introvert. I’m not speaking for every introvert out there, but for me, I’m quiet, shy, and often uncomfortable in my own skin. Dating has never just been about meeting someone new. It’s about energy, and for introverts like me, energy is a precious thing.

When you’re introverted, dating can be mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausting. It’s not about the usual nerves. It’s more about the pressure to perform socially. I’ve had dates where silence felt unbearable, or when I instantly knew there was no spark. In those moments, all I wanted to do was go home and recharge. The thing is, I crave deep emotional connections and intimacy, but I wish I could skip the surface-level small talk and go straight into the real conversations. Otherwise, dating essentially feels like an interview, and I can’t stand those.

Then there’s online dating, which feels even harder. Scrolling through some strangers’ profiles doesn’t make me feel connected. It makes me feel more distant. The whole process feels so impersonal. Judging someone based off their looks without even knowing who they are doesn’t sit right with me. I also hate the feeling of putting myself out there on display for others to “swipe” on. Personally, online dating is a nightmare, and I rarely go on the apps anymore.

I’ve always preferred the idea of meeting someone organically. But as an introvert, I tend to give off a quiet, reserved vibe that often keeps people from approaching me. It’s not intentional, it’s just instinct for me to retreat to corners, stay on the sidelines, and protect my energy.

Being single for so long has been both lonely and comforting. I value solitude and a space to just be me. It’s where I feel most at peace. But I do long for love. Even if the idea of opening up feels terrifying. As an introvert, I know I’m slow to trust and even slower to let people in. And that means very few people have seen the real me.

I’m also extremely picky. Deep connections don’t happen often for me, so when they do, they have to be real. I need both physical and emotional attraction, and I’ll never settle for less. That might mean waiting longer, but to me, it’s worth it.

Why Dating Feels Different for Introverts

Through my experiences, I’ve realized that introverts approach love differently:

Energy comes first. Social situations drain us. A loud bar might excite an extrovert, but for an introvert, it’s a nightmare. Quiet settings allow us to feel safe and present.

Small talk is exhausting. Introverts crave depth. We’d rather skip the weather updates and dive straight into what really matters.

We move slower. Introverts take longer to open up, and that’s okay. The right person will respect our pace.

Connection over quantity. We’re not built for dating dozens of people at once. One meaningful connection outweighs dozens of casual encounters.

Being an introvert in the dating world can feel isolating, but it also comes with some strengths. We don’t settle for superficial connections. When we love, it’s intentional, deep, and very real.

Yes, I’ve avoided dating because of my fears, awkward experiences, and need to protect my heart. But I also know this: when I do meet someone who understands my introverted heart, it will be worth the wait. And if that never happens, at least I’ll know I stayed true to myself and never compromised who I am.

Because at the end of the day, introverts may struggle in the dating world, but we’re also the ones who understand the true value of love when it finally arrives.

“For introverts, love isn’t about quantity—it’s about depth.”--Unknown

#MentalHealth #ADHD #Introvert #neurod #Anxiety #GeneralizedAnxietyDisorder #AutismSpectrumDisorder

Follow my journey managing my #MentalHealth

Scarf the Squirrel is my alter ego; I pretend to be her. It is how I cope with life; I keep in touch with my inner child. So, the two of us here are only one!! As I write my story, I develop a connection and a friendship with my characters. It is how we cope with life as an adult when we suffer from generalized anxiety and social anxiety with Autism. It can be quite difficult for me to bond and maintain a social life. The misunderstandings between me and other people can wear at my heart, which is unfortunately already exhausted, that is the Autism kryptonite. Playing pretend has brought me back to life and has brought me inner peace and happiness. It has helped me combat loneliness. I will be telling my story here; perhaps it may help or inspire you. Let me know your thoughts?

#Autism #Depression #SocialAnxiety #GeneralizedAnxietyDisorder #Loneliness #Anxiety #Introvert

My birthday is actually in May on the tenth. And I celebrated it the day after because of the fact that I always have depression on the day of my birthday. I found out that they have a word for that which is fragapanophobia.

I am beginning to think that I honestly have birthday phobia. And I’ll tell you why, it all started when I was a little girl. I have a distinct memory of me crying in the bedroom on my birthday. I always remember feeling sad on or around my birthday. My emotions were always tied up in gloom.

I’m not 100% certain why but if I had to try and put my finger on it. I’ll say that it has to do with the fact that May is one of the most celebrated months with so many special occasions. And my birthday has frequently been overshadowed where people would say to me, “Oh, that’s right. Today is your birthday isn’t it?” My birthday has almost always been forgotten about by my family and friends. Unless I remind them.

But, me possibly having fragapanophobia isn’t the only reason why I am always so depressed about my birthday. But I identify as a HSP a highly sensitive person, I am a easily triggered mess, and I am introverted. I want to be celebrated but I also want to be left alone.

I celebrated my birthday the day after with a spa day and had a whole hour to myself which was incredibly relaxing. The day after my birthday was pretty sweet. But the day of was to be expected, because my two closest siblings forgot to call and wish me a happy birthday. I was so bummed and I purposely scheduled a therapy session for my birthday but it was canceled.

Yeah, this may be my second post on #TheMighty of me pouting about my birthday. But I will say that although I was hurt. It hurt a little less then it had in my past. And I’m just hoping that I’ll soon be able to not have to hurt at all.

It is Mental Health Month. And I’m determined to make sure I prioritize myself and not let my emotions dictate how I spend my birthday weekend. My plan is to write a book about it since it is such a constant theme for my birthdays. And grow from this since I’m blessed with life I want to be thankful for it.

I won’t be reminding people of my birthday anymore. If they truly care they’ll remember on their own. Just like I do when it’s theirs. As soon as their birthday month pop up on the calendar I always mark the date to be sure to show them so much love. I pray that it is reciprocated with the same amount of love🎉🎈🎁. #Introvert #HSP #Depression #Loneliness #MentalHealth #MentalHealthAwareness

Oftentimes, the term “wallflower” has a negative meaning — it denotes someone who doesn’t stand out, is isolated, or feels excluded. But we don’t think there’s a lot of truth to that. Wallflowers can be strong, they can be observant, they can be the absolute best listeners of the bunch.

Do you consider yourself to be a someone thoughtful who’s on the outside looking in? Or are you in the middle of the noise, shining bright like a beacon?

#MightyMinute #CheckInWithMe #Anxiety #Introvert

I grew up without that feeling of being enough, without being appreciated or loved for who I was. Nobody really cared or asked what I believed or wanted, felt or hoped for.

Being introverted and highly sensitive on top of it, it was relatively easy for me to fit into a role that was carved out for me, deemed acceptable enough by my family - luckily, I love my own company, was easy going, quiet and obedient. I was the 'good girl' who did what she was told and didn't ask or expect any different from the world around her. I didn't know that a different world was possible or how this world could look or feel like for a very long time in my life.

I knew that I had obviously failed miserably trying to be what was expected of me. At the age of 6 my mother told me that 'she should have thrown me against the wall at birth' after complaining that I hadn't done my daily chore to her liking... a vision that never quite left me all my life.

I had also failed to be loved by my father, I guess... why, as I found out much later in life, would he otherwise agree to not ever seeing me again in exchange of my mother accepting full blame for a failed marriage at the family court? Thanks goodness this is now a thing of the past.

So at the age of 8, I was dealt with like the cards on and under the table. Shuffled about to fit into their lives. Used as payback to each other and as a joker to hit the other where it could hurt the most... only it didn't do any harm to them, the joke was completely on me:

The day came when my father moved out and I had to say goodbye to my dad. I was told by my mother that my dad was moving out as he wanted to marry another woman who also had two girls from another marriage. They would now become his daughters and who he obviously loved more than his own. Any correspondence and presents for birthdays he sent to me after that disappeared before they reached me... I was told he didn't want to know me anymore.

I learned early that I had to perform to be accepted, agree with others opinions and needs, not only to be seen but also to survive. Growing older, I had no voice and didn't really know what that even meant. I was never asked about my thoughts or opinions, they didn't really matter and why would anybody be interested in them anyway!

In school one was asked for assertiveness, the need to question and discuss, but my voice remained quiet and mouse-like. Painfully dodging any way to be myself, to be in the light to shine or stand out to be who I really was. Always hiding in the shadows.

Sadly, I wasn't allowed to take the courses at school that interested me - art was not what my mother deemed acceptable, and my failure of good grades did not improve in those subjects she asked me to take, no matter how hard she tried to knock them into me during her drunken weekend sessions.

A small circle of friends, girls from my class who I could be with, talk with and be without pretence, were also not the ones she wanted for me. She put an end to that closeness by secretly asking the school to move me to another class. Apparently their bad influence stopped my achievements - it wasn't the drunken scenes, late into the night, or the sleepless nights when I huddled under the doona hoping she wouldn't come back into my room to let me know how much she had done for me and how little I did to repay her for it, all the time hoping to relax as I had studied for the test the next day but had no hope to do well after nights like these.

She didn't even have the guts to warn me about it but let me walk to school after holidays, looking forward to seeing my friends again, only to find out that I was the only one who had been moved into another class in which I didn't know a single soul.

It took a lifetime to find that voice that should have been - only now at the age ovf 60+ do I start to feel brave enough to talk about those days when I was not good enough, not loved enough, and could not find peace.

As I learned to control my outer life by being agreeable, my inner life grew, expanded, dreamt of possibilities and hated the shackles that were placed on me from little on. My voice was always in there. It was stiffled, but it was waiting to be heard. It was bent into submission, shaped into size and place to please others, no matter of the pain this caused to me.

Both my parents have since died and my sister, 7 years my senior, is no longer talking to me. As she explained to me once, that with my arrival as a baby everything became hard and difficult, everything and everyone in the family changed once I was around - happiness disappeared for her as our mother couldn't cope any longer and I was obviously the reason for that. She talked of a happy childhood, parents I don't recognise - all negative change was down to me. Hard to take, but there it is.

My repeated attempts to establish an adult relationship in the hope to work through and heal some of the wounds we undoubtedly both suffered over those fateful years, has been rejected by her and the only reason given to me was once again the pain I had enforced on her. Now by simply bringing it up and reminding her about it... I have the feeling that she cannot function without the masks.

Go where you are celebrated and accepted not just tolerated'... I believe you have to drop those masks eventually.

Much Love to you all...

#ComplexPTSD

#CPTSD

#PostTraumaticStressDisorder

#Introvert

#INFJ

#EmotionalNeglect

#Childhoodtrauma

#CumulativeTraumaDisorders

#Trauma

#PTSD

#Early Childhood Trauma