You can't be an introvert, you're an actor.

Portrait of a sword-wielding introvert.

It’s a common misconception that introverts are shrinking violets who cannot bear a conversation with strangers and extroverts are loud mouths who must be the center of attention. Obviously this isn’t the case or no one would be able to tolerate another person. We all know we’re on a spectrum, but it has less to do with how you interact with people and more to do with how you recharge afterward.

If you’ve ever taken any Myers Briggs tests (or a multitude of others) you’ll likely have some idea of where you fall on the introvert/extrovert scale. I’m just to the introvert side of center. When I was younger than seventeen, this would not have surprised anyone. Even at various points in my late teens and early twenties, I believe this wouldn’t have been met with the shock that people usually express now.

I’m more comfortable with myself now. I know my own limitations (and try to heed them most of the time) and I set boundaries. I make time for people who enhance my life and do my best to stay away from anyone who drains me. This all equates to me being more able to hang in a social situation.

Whether you’re more introverted or extroverted is not about how social you are. It’s about how you expend energy. I believe the misconception stems from the fact that big social gatherings will often highlight energy expenditure.

An extrovert is energized by social interaction. Being with people leaves them awake, alert, and ready to do more. An introvert expends energy on social interaction. This does not mean that they cannot be talkative, gregarious, or even command the spotlight. It means that when they’re done, they probably need a nap. Maybe even a day completely away from people.

Me, the day after a writers’ conference.

I flip on the social switch with finesse if I have adequately prepared for it. I’m best if I know what I’m walking into, and have a few key point people that I can gravitate toward if things get to be too overwhelming. (Not all people will burn an introvert’s energy the same way. I have a short list of people I can hang with one-on-one even when I’m socially drained.) When I plan for an outing, I try to work out a few key things: parking, distance, people I know attending, start and end time, other events that day or surrounding days. Often these things aren’t within my control, but I will still do my utmost to research them. On the surface, it looks like I’m just a control freak (I will neither confirm nor deny) but knowing these things helps me mentally prep for how much oomph I’m going to need to navigate the event.

I love writing conferences. I love meeting people, hanging with people that I only get to see at these things, being silly, being serious, too late nights, too early mornings. Love it. Then I need a full day of recovery afterward. At least. I usually skip the final day of the conference (the Sunday) if I can, so that I can have that day completely to myself. I don’t even follow up on connections until the following Monday.

When I was acting and teaching group fitness full time, I often took a nap at 2pm. On long days, I went straight to bed after work. I expended energy all day long, so my solo runs, time to myself reading, couch crashes with my cat, were sacred to me. When I could, I would hole up in a coffee shop in between classes, preferably somewhere I wouldn’t run in to anyone I knew, just to recharge.

Many writers are introverts, but to be a successful author, you must network. You must learn to speak in front of groups. You must learn how to mingle and get along in a crowd. So I will close with a three tips that have helped me.

  1. If an event is important, make it the only one. When my husband (extrovert) and I started dating, I made it clear that he could go to as many parties as he liked over the weekend, but I would only be attending one. If I had to push, I could do more, but I didn’t like it. If it were important, I always mentally picked a ‘key event’ and made sure that I set boundaries around times for everything else to conserve my energy. If I ignored the boundaries, I suffered.

  2. Sometimes all you have to do is show up. Learn to discern when it’s important for you to mingle and interact and when you can simply make an appearance, have a five minute conversation with the person you came to support, and gracefully exit.

  3. Plan your end game. For me, often “I’m done now” will hit suddenly and without mercy. This is easily managed if you’re at a conference at a hotel in which you’ve purchased a room and are merely networking at the bar post panel. It’s a bit more challenging if you need to navigate driving home, especially if it’s an event where you need to manage your alcohol intake before you drive. Sometimes this means setting yourself a time limit and sticking to it. Sometimes it means checking in with your spouse to see if they’re willing to pick you up if you suddenly need to leave. But I always feel better with my escape plan mapped out.


Any introverts out there want to share their energy management tips? And I like to hear from the extroverts too. What challenges do you face if you happen to be an extroverted writer?