Entry # 4: Introversion Is Not Less Than

Prompt #4: Write about a moment when you knew you were evolving—when your spirit had outgrown an old mindset, habit, friendship, belief, or version of you that used to feel like home.   And yet…  there was still a pull to go back.  

To shrink.  

To make others comfortable.  

To stay known instead of becoming new.

What made you almost return?   What made you stay forward?   And what lesson did that transition teach you about yourself, your boundaries, and your worth?

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Let’s get right to it, I’m evolving from the idea that if you’re introverted, you’re somewhat less than. Less than what, I’m not quite sure. Maybe less valuable? Less intellectual? Less worthy? Less lovable. Thinking back to movies and stories I’ve seen — you know the ones — introverts are the wallflowers, the ones forgotten or ignored, and who never get to see their day in the spotlight because it wasn’t made for people like us. 

People — it feels mostly intentional— shame introverts for wanting to be alone, not understanding that it’s to recharge and rejuvenate. We’re shamed for describing our perfect day as one where we’re alone, or maybe surrounded by one or two friends. And the thought of finding purpose and joy in solitary activities is baffling. 

As much as I know I’m not less than for wanting these things, or finding joy in the small things like the quiet, or the intimate spaces shared by one or two people I feel safe with, and loved by and seen with — I do find myself acting in ways that say the contrary. 

Or rather, I should say there are internal wars I wage within my mind, questioning if I’m missing out by not shedding my introversion and forcing extroversion upon myself. 

This conflict emerges when I show up, when I really don’t want to. When I’m told I need more friends, or I need to speak more, or do more, and be more like this person or that person who’s likely far more extroverted than I. It’s admiring those in my spaces who are more extroverted than I and wondering why can’t I be more like them, and thus less like me. 

It’s an ongoing tug of war, defined by a series of moments rather than just one. As I step onto firmer, and more solid, grounded, even understanding of who I am, I’m learning to preserve and protect my introversion. It’s not a weakness or a flaw; it’s part of who I am and how I show up in the world. 

The more I run away from that truth, that’s the heart of the matter, the more unsure my footing becomes. 

The more I sit with it, settle in, the more confident I become in the way I move around public and private spaces. It shows up in me carving out time for my solitary, yet creative pursuits like writing. It’s shown in my polite, yet firm decision to not attend a gathering, or a party, or a celebration when what I really want and need is a peaceful night in with me and my thoughts. 

It’s protecting my space from those who question with disbelief rather than curiosity. Those who seek to change me for the sake of their own comfort and not mine, or who want to mold me into what they perceive as acceptable. It’s fleeing or avoiding those who place labels far from the truth, because they can’t look beyond the surface of what they think is introversion — boredom, loneliness, aloof, indifferent, insignificant, incapable — to see what it really is. 

For me, it’s creating spaces for quiet pauses; reflecting to build understanding, empathy, and self-awareness; it’s tending to parts of me that need attention or healing; it’s listening to build bridges of connection and forge pathways forward; it’s observing the smallest of details to show love in silence, and simple gestures; it’s preserving the quiet to hear what isn’t said; it’s articulating with meaning and purpose and impact; and it’s deciding who I invite within my fold with intentionality rather than spontaneity. 

It’s also recognizing that sometimes, it’s okay to push myself, on my own terms, outside of my comfort zone. Yesterday may not have been the day, but today may be the one to try a new place, or to surround myself with new people. 

When I lean into my introversion, I feel stronger and empowered. 

I feel more like me than I’ve ever been— a me capable of pursuing, achieving, believing, navigating, reflecting, exploring, discovering, hoping and just existing in a way that fits like a final puzzle piece.

~ K, Your Fellow Black Bonnet Girl

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Note: Lessons from My 20s is A reflective series by Black Bonnet Girls. Lessons from My 20s is a journal-style series capturing the unfiltered truths, tender moments, and tiny awakenings that come with growing up and growing into yourself.  These entries are for anyone who’s ever felt stuck between who they’ve been and who they’re becoming. For the overthinkers, the late bloomers, the quiet dreamers, and the loud feelers. Through storytelling, reflection, and honesty, I hope this space becomes a soft landing—for me and for you.