God, I wish I were an introvert.
I smile at the memes about hoping plans get canceled. I have read Quiet, a book about navigating the big, loud world as an introvert. In game development and in life I am surrounded by introverts and I know how difficult social life is for them. As your friendly neighborhood extrovert, I adopt them and speak for them in public.
But contrary to introverted opinion, adult life is made for introverts, as anyone who’s tried to make a new friend or date over the age of thirty can attest. Just as introverts grow uneasy and tired after too much time in noise and company, I start to go mad after too many nights at home in my PJs with no conversation and no contact except the hugs I force on my (extremely introverted) teenager. While trying to get to know people, I watch them shrink away from my enthusiasm. In an age where one meets people on apps, if at all, even hanging out in a crowded bar is a lonely experience.
My dream is a long table filled with laughing people, slightly buzzed, sampling one another’s food, and I can count on one hand how many times this has happened in my life. I am jealous of stories about long, sleepless party nights, drunken adventures that ended in strange locales, and friends made while traveling. Every introverted lover I’ve had has regaled me with tales of an extraordinary past life: they were lead singers in cover bands and bartenders at college parties that ended with delicious, almost-public sex, surfers who got high with strangers and took the bus, broke and sunburned and sandy, up the California coast. But with me, they are tired and comfortable; when the party begins to swell, these formerly fun people are ready to go home. Those experiences, they tell me, were the hell they had to go through to find someone with whom they could stay at home.
I have, a thousand and one times, witnessed the illness and headaches that introverts suffer after too much noise, have rubbed their temples and feet and left them in the dark to recuperate, but when are such allowances made for the extrovert? Introverts and extroverts are often natural lovers and friends, so why is it so rare for the introvert to notice that their beloved extrovert is pacing their cozy home like a tiger in a zoo enclosure?
I love my introverts; I cover them like a mother hen in the rain. I power through awkward conversations with strangers at events; I step in front of photographers to explain that my introvert is shy; I draw them out with gentle questions and back away when they get skittish. I have spent my adult life quieting my laugh and holding my breath in bed. Relationships are a constant check-in: Is this too much hugging? Would you rather not hold my hand? Is this too much light?
It’s almost time for the Game Developer’s Conference again, an experience that wore me to the bone every year when I attended. I do not have the patience for another room filled with interesting people who stare at their own feet, mumble, and escape at the first opportunity.
Gamedev Twitter is alight with tales of sheepishly tip-toeing into social GDC encounters only to find open arms and newfound friends. Introverts: if this happens to you, consider that an extrovert may be the architect of this warm embrace. If you have an extrovert at home, step outside your comfort zone every once in a great while. Introverts should be bundled up and taken home when they are overwhelmed, and introverts should take the initiative to dress up their extrovert and get them out in the open on a regular basis. It is fine for Netflix and chill to be the norm, but if you notice that your extrovert is excited to go to the grocery store or comes home from the gym with a dozen stories, it may be time to suck it up and arrange a little outing. Accept that, as the introvert, your default happy place is inside your own thoughts, and you may need to pay better attention to others - especially if you’ve had a decade to recover from those high school gym assemblies.
