For almost all my life, I identified as being extroverted. I loved being around people, and absorbed energy from hanging out. Looking forward to weekend social activities kept me going through hard work weeks, especially in my psychiatry residency training. My friends even used to joke that I had an address book of names—I’d say Filofax but that dates me—and I’d just go down the list asking people to do something with me until someone said yes. To feel recharged, I just needed to do something, with someone.
That’s how it used to be. Now, I am perfectly content being home and alone. I no longer need to make plans to hang out with friends to motivate me to make it to Friday. When I do go out, it’s not very long before I feel spent. I even left a wedding recently before most of the reception because I’d “had enough socializing.”
This version of me feels—different, uncomfortable even. Like my personality changed entirely. There might be a loneliness crisis going on right now, but I find that, for me personally, I just like being alone so much more than I used to, and often I even prefer it. Talking with friends, other mental health experts, and even some of my own patients, I know I’m not alone. “I actually see this in a lot of people,” says Nikki Lacherza-Drew, a therapist who runs a practice called Vici Psychological Care. There’s no hard data that I could find on the phenomenon, but it seems that some of us are just more introverted now.
Part of it is that we have emerged from a pandemic, which provided us with so very much time to be alone. “Some people may have not only become more accustomed to it—they may have realized they actually enjoy solitary time, developing an appreciation for its benefits they didn’t previously have a chance to explore,” says Nikhita Singhal, a child and adolescent psychiatry subspecialty resident at the University of Toronto. Becoming more introverted during that time also could have been a bit of a protective measure: In a study of college students, more extroversion was related to lower mood as the pandemic progressed. Sessions with my therapist necessarily focused on how I could sustain my own mental health without the help of others. Maybe realizing I could enjoy being by myself happened because I had to be by myself. I ended up liking my own company more than I could have imagined.
Something also has happened in the past five years to me and my friends: As much as I wish time had simply stopped during the COVID years, we have, in fact, gotten older. I have often heard that people become more introverted over time and have seen some hypotheses that this has to do with evolution and no longer needing to be out and about and talking to people to “find a mate.” (And of course, if you’re coupled up and have family responsibilities, you’ll probably be going out less whether you like it or not.) While the evolutionary explanation feels slightly oversimplistic, there is some data showing the trend is at least generally true: There is a linear decrease over time in extroversion as a trait. One study found that while scores measuring extroversion dropped after age 30 and continued to drop to age 90, the drop was most profound after the mid-50s. I started the pandemic at 32, and am now 36. So maybe age is a contributing factor, too.
And then there’s the fact that my vision of myself as “an extrovert” was probably too simplistic in the first place. Psychologists have long described introversion and extroversion as extremes, with most of us falling somewhere in the middle. Indeed, the vast majority of people are ambiverts, according to an article that ran in Scientific American this spring, with their preferences varying from situation to situation, even if they tend to lean in one direction or the other. And it’s possible to very purposefully shift where you fall, too, as writer Olga Khazan described in the Atlantic in 2022, and Glen Powell’s fictional character in the movie Hit Man demonstrated more recently. In those cases, though, Khazan and Powell’s Gary Johnson made themselves become more extroverted.
I do feel a little self-conscious about my turn inward. When I say no to plans, I wonder if I am now “less fun,” or even “boring.” I am curious if my friends will notice that I’m spending more time alone and if they will wonder if something is wrong with me—particularly as isolation or change of behavior can be signs of depression. (I hang out with a lot of mental health types.) In many ways, society favors extroversion. “Descriptors such as ‘outgoing’ and ‘sociable’ may be perceived as having a more positive connotation than terms we use to describe introversion,” Singhal tells me. Both introverted and extroverted tendencies can come with upsides and challenges—that doesn’t really mean one is “better” than the other, says Lacherza-Drew. “I think social media for a person who is more extroverted can be a slippery slope,” she points out. Just like isolating, spending too much time chasing socialization in the form of engagement online can be difficult for mental health, too.
Still, a part of me wants to just force myself to return to my pre-pandemic extroverted self again. It feels on some level like it would be positive to go back to being a social butterfly. But I know I should embrace my new self-awareness, as well as listen to my body and its energy supply. To find the balance, even. That is, of course, what I would tell any patient of mine to do if they were worried about a shift toward introversion in themselves.
I’m not done shifting, though. “It takes intention and experimentation to figure out the right routine,” Kasley Killam, the author of The Art and Science of Connection, tells me. She suggests journaling at the end of a day or week, and in writing, asking myself about different interactions throughout my day, my energy level after them, and the amount and depth of my socializing throughout. The answers will be individualized to me, and maybe even that day or week, but actively paying attention to my interactions and how I feel can help me find the right balance. “It can be beneficial to focus on quality over quantity,” Killam adds, “to prioritize the relationships that are most important to you, such as with close friends and family, rather than socializing for the sake of it. It can also be valuable to dedicate time to connecting with yourself.”
Imagine that: actually allowing time to connect to myself. To ask myself how I am feeling and what those feelings mean. To be a little bored, even in the busy world of work and a social life. Instead of extroverted, or introverted, perhaps now I’ll strive to simply be intentional.
