Welcome to Solicited Advice, our weekly column that celebrates the helpfulness in health. Because in a world where strangers at the grocery store love to tell you that a specific brand of magnesium will indeed “cure” what ails you (it probably won’t, so sorry), we’re all about passing on our lived experience in a way that makes your life a little better. Are we experts? Nah, not really. But we’re great listeners who have perfected the art of pillow screaming. Let’s get into it!
This isn’t necessarily a topic that prompts some advice, but I really liked reading about all of your relationships with neurodivergence last year, and I’d love to hear more about whether you all identify as introvert, extrovert, ambivert, omnivert, etc.
Ash: I think I look like an introvert to most folks until they get to know me, and once that mask comes off or trust is gained, so is my ability to open up. That’s my long-winded way of saying I’m an ambivert. It’s worth adding that getting over that hurdle can be really difficult, as I’ve shared before that socializing doesn’t come easily to me.
But when I’m around my people like the BFFs here or folks in my fantasy Discord, I come alive. When I am surrounded by those who I feel any sense of unease around, I tuck inside myself. And while I need those connections to truly feel fulfillment, I also need a lot of alone time, which is why I try to interact with group A more than group B as listed above. I need to be mindful of how and where my energy is spent as too much alone time can be just as draining as too much time out in the world — I need that balance.
I’ve found if I don’t find that balance, I overcorrect and then neither direction suits me. Before the pandemic, I was commuting nearly three hours a day, constantly socializing with coworkers during the week and friends on the weekends, and I was never alone. Once the pandemic hit, I was spending all day every day within two rooms and — besides my partner — my socialization was at a zero. At first that felt great as I felt like I could recover from the busyness of what life had been, but then it led to some agoraphobia when I started to leave my house again and it took a lot of work to push out of that fear.
Jess: Unmasking has had a significant impact on my answer here. In high school they gave us a battery of tests, including the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator (MBTI) personality test. At the time, my result was ENXX (I don’t remember the last two letters). I took another one years later as an adult and my result was INFJ, and it has remained so each time I’ve retaken the test. The biggest difference? In high school I answered the way I thought I was “supposed” to — aka who I was on my “best,” high-masking, socially-acceptable days. But I didn’t know those terms at the time. My mom and I always just called it being “on” as if performing. Little did we know… 😂
It’s also possible I changed as I got older. There was a lot of new trauma after that first test, and also a lot of self-discovery. While I find a lot of folks casually use introversion vs. extroversion as a measure of whether they like being around people or whether they are shy or not (a different thing), I see it more as how we get our energy. I very much enjoy people, and being around certain people fuels me in other ways, but I recharge alone.
My now-husband referred to me as a chameleon almost 20 years ago, and he wasn’t wrong. I sometimes joke that I'm an undercover introvert — people think I’m an extrovert because I can be outgoing and “on” — and while that is honestly me, it’s not the full reality of my inner world. A few years ago, my grandma said in reference to herself, “I require a lot of alone time,” and it rang like a gong through my body — yes. That. Not only the resonance of it, but the simple acceptance with which she said it. Like yeah, that’s just what I know I need.
If I know I’m going to be around people, I need to shore up my energy, and I need recharge time after. Interestingly, this is true online too. For example, I know I can’t have meetings (virtual or in-person) every day of the week consistently. I can push through that occasionally, but there’s a price to pay. Generally I manage this by having a set number of days that I’m available for meetings, workshops, training, etc. and a day where I handle stuff outside of the house — I’m not someone who casually runs errands. And on those days, I have very different expectations for myself because I’m not getting as much alone or recharge time. One of my frequent projects is exploring new ways to be flexible with these needs, not because I need to be different, but because I like options.
Kat: I think most people in my life would describe me as an extrovert because I’m pretty comfortable in a crowd — especially with people I don’t know — and admittedly have a knack for small talk as well as public speaking. By the end of an event, I could probably tell you someone’s entire life story, where they work, what keeps them up at night, their favorite snack, and their celebrity crush — all to a montage of half of their phone’s photo roll (which, of course, I got them to show me). But do I consider myself an extrovert? Honestly, I’m a lot like Jess. I get energy from people for sure, but need a good amount of recharge time by myself (absolutely no talking! minimal screen time!). But, now that I think about it, a large part of me feels like the whole ambivert outfit I’ve been wearing the past decade or so has grown especially comfortable because my health has been perpetually rolling downhill into the Landfill of Broken Dreams. 0/10 recommend that vacation destination.
I think the biggest challenge for me right now is that I miss so, so many people in my life (a few of whom read this newsletter). I crave their company and want to know every single thought in their head, but my body literally won’t let me. Every single social interaction I have, even if it’s just a short Zoom call, sends my body into overdrive. I’ll spike a fever or get a cold sore or need an earlier-than-normal bedtime. I have to be so calculated with my energy and brainspace that I can’t show up in the world the way I want to. So I think that makes me an extrovert in an introvert’s clothes right now.
It makes me chuckle because I have an extremely extroverted mom — her social calendar is quite a thing to behold — but a deeply introverted dad. And I’m realizing that’s why my relationships are so different with each of them. With my mom, there’s constant chatter. With my dad, there are a lot of quiet car rides and chocolate malts sipped while exchanging memes. My brother is a lot more introverted than I am, and it makes me wonder how much these personality traits are products of our upbringing.
So I think the lesson I’m learning in real time is that while the core of who we are as people likely doesn’t evolve too astronomically over the span of our lifetimes, how those characteristics present and where they surface are especially influenced by whatever life circumstances we find ourselves in (or, as Jess pointed out, the trauma we’ve experienced as well). The percentages might change and our needs may evolve, but our tendencies and comfort levels are likely pretty similar no matter how old we are.
Also, who would I be if I didn’t do my civil duty to pass along a super serious Buzzfeed quiz that “accurately” detects your personality type. Though, to its credit, it does peg me as an ambivert!
Got a question you want to ask us? Reply to this email or DM us on Substack — we’ll keep your identity anonymous! P.S. Our really professional lawyers (they wear pantsuits and everything) tell us we can’t dispense any kind of medical advice to the public, but we appreciate you thinking we could even do that in the first place. You’re a real one.
More Solicited Advice
How we feel about birthdays
My relationship with my birthday has changed a lot over time, and I’ve noticed my feelings around celebrating definitively correlates to how my chronic health conditions are affecting my day-to-day life. Do you all feel the same? How do you each approach your birthdays?