A Letter from Your Introverted Friend | TheBlissfulPoet.com | introvert, relationships, friendship, blogging, simple living

Love Always, Your Introverted Friend


Dear friend,

Hi. I don’t know if it’s been a day since we last spoke or a year. Sometimes I’m pretty bad at keeping up with that sort of thing, especially these days.

But if you’re ever tempted to question my love or loyalty, I just want you to remember a few things:

I love you even though I don’t always answer the phone or call you back right away. Or for a week. You see, talking on the phone any longer than twenty seconds is not only exhausting, but on a scale of one to awkward, it’s definitely an “I-just called-someone-the-wrong-name-tried-to-laugh-it-off-and-ended-up-spitting-on-him-by-mistake.” It’s that fun.

Even though I don’t invite you over a lot, I enjoy spending time with you. And I hope you enjoy spending time with me, too, and I don’t want to ruin that by inviting you over and serving you dry Reese’s Puffs and grape Kool-Aid and making you sit on the broken love seat next to a small pile of socks while the cat bites your ankles. I’ll just come to your place instead.

Please don’t be offended if I ever turn down plans for no reason. Some nights I’d rather stay in and watch a movie with The Huz than go out with a bunch of people I only kind of know. Sometimes having too many social plans is exhausting, and I need time to recharge. Maybe tomorrow instead (or when I learn how to make small talk that doesn’t involve how cold I am).

It might not seem like I have anything to say, but I do. It’s just that sometimes, when there’s more than one other person present and a lot of conversation buzzing around me, I get too mentally overwhelmed to get my thoughts out in complete sentences. Or by using real words. I don’t know what to do with my hands.

Sometimes I act weird because I can be too concerned about what you think of me. I might laugh too much, clam up, say dumb things. Honestly, I want you to like me, and sometimes I feel like I have to over-compensate when what I’d really rather do is just listen. And I have a dream that one day I’ll be able to have a conversation without punctuating every sentence with awkward guffaws.

I’ve been a cat lady since birth. If you know anything about basic social standards, it’s that cat people are generally awkward and/or introverted people. And let me tell you, I had cat posters, notebooks, and t-shirts for days. I even had a brief subscription to Cat Fancy. Yes, friend, I’ve since learned to manage my unhealthy preoccupation with cats (we only have one), but those roots still run deep.

Don’t be weirded out if I choose to write you a letter instead of talk face to face about something that’s bothering me, or if I need to apologize. I communicate best on paper, not in person, and in the moment I often lose my words or forget what I was going to say. Plus, I’m always more than happy to talk to you after you read the letter and I’ve moved three states away and changed my name.

I love so many things about you: your style, your laugh, your kindness / selflessness, your sense of humor, the fact that you bought me coffee because I spent all my money on books and chicken nuggets again — but I’m terrible at saying those things out loud. I don’t really know why. But do I know that you’re incredible and I love you.

If I apologize too much, I’m sorry. It’s just that I like to keep people happy, and sometimes I take the blame for negative things, even when they’re not my fault.

I might not look like I’m having fun, but I am. Really. Don’t mistake my quietness for unhappiness. You could mistake my “flash migraine” or my sudden need to go home and organize the spice rack for unhappiness, sure. But just because I’m not talking much doesn’t mean I’m not having fun. Sometimes I just like to chill.

Don’t worry about awkward silences. What might be an awkward silence for you might just be a moment of peace for me. Besides, they say you know you’re truly comfortable around someone when you can be with them and not have to talk. So that’s probably it — I’m just comfortable enough around you to know I don’t have to be “on” all the time. Congratulations! (Then again, it may actually be an awkward silence.)

If I’m in the bathroom for a while at a party, don’t worry. I’m probably just checking my email, texting my mom, applying more Chapstick, and fixing my dress that somehow got tucked into my underwear earlier.

I value your opinion, and your kind words mean a lot to me. And if you happen to criticize me for any reason, I promise not to cry for more than ten minutes.

Love Always, Your Introverted Friend | The Blissful Poet

So if you think I’ve forgotten about you, or if you think I don’t love you enough to call you back, please have some grace with me. I’m getting better at this whole “people” thing, and maybe one day I’ll be able to greet you without turning beet red or snorting by mistake. For now, just remember that I’m busy trying to get out of bed without embarrassing myself.

And that I still don’t know what to do with my hands.

Love always,

Your Introverted Friend



  1. Pingback: Two Types of Loneliness You’ll Face as a Writer – The Lady in Read

  2. Pingback: Two Types of Loneliness You'll Face as a Writer | The Lady in Read

Let me know what you think.