I spend many hours alone. I write alone. I drink my coffee alone, dine alone, and shop alone. My life is perfectly normal when I am alone.
Friends ask if I wouldn’t have more fun with company. They worry I might be lonely.
I enjoy meeting friends, and they provide plenty of entertainment, distractions, and interesting conversations, but the loneliest I have ever felt was in a crowded room. I love hosting house parties, connecting with strangers, and cultivating new friendships. Those interactions, while enjoyable, tax my psyche, and I schedule time to rebalance my life after major events.
The virus has turned our world upside down. American culture values and venerates extroverts. Suddenly, we are experiencing an interest in introverted qualities. Working in groups with endless team meetings are stressors for solitary types. Many writers find productivity in group write-ins. For me, those experiences elicit the opposite effect.
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