Though many of us freely admit to our anti-party sentiments, many of us also secretly wonder if we are "party poopers"—people who are not only un-fun, but also spoil the fun for others. If you want evidence for society's extroversion assumption, just tell an extroverted friend that you don't want to go to the party or, if you're there, that you want to go home.
First of all, unless your friend is unusually enlightened, she probably won't believe you. The extroversion assumption says, "Everyone wants to go to the party." Secondly, she will probably interpret your reluctance as shyness or a need to feel wanted. The extroversion assumption says, "Because all people want to go to the party, a refusal means that the person needs encouragement." So the extrovert freely encourages you: "You have to stay! It's just getting good! You've only been here two hours! Don't be a party pooper!"
Would a friend as freely pressure you into helping her clean her kitchen? An introvert may actually prefer this option, because the two of you could at least talk in a quieter, less pressured setting. But, unless he or she is a really close friend, such an invitation would be considered an imposition. Not so with the party. Parties are fun!
It is hard for extroverts to understand how truly oppressive a party can be for an introvert. See if this sounds familiar:
I have friends who don't understand that when I want to leave a party, I really want to leave. Their pleading with me to stay is not going to change my mind. They may want to socialize all night, but I don't!
—Ingrid, who has much more fun at home
You have come to this party because a friend insisted. The friend who talked you into coming spent five minutes with you and introduced you around a bit. He is now heartily mingling. You do not know anyone else very well, and you've participated in as much small talk as you can stand. It's too early to leave gracefully, so you linger at the snack table for a bit, make a call on your cell, spend a little extra time in the bathroom, and, if all else fails, drink heavily. You feel trapped. You have no interest in working your way into a banal conversation (unless perhaps you chose to drink heavily); you don't want to look pathetic by shadowing your friend; and sitting alone would look downright pitiable—besides, there's no place to sit! Your energy level is taking a nosedive, and you just want to go home, change into sweats, and turn on some good music. Help!
A situation like this—especially if you are dependent on an extrovert for a ride—resembles some forms of torture, such as forced sleep deprivation. In both cases, you are trapped in a state that becomes increasingly painful to maintain. It's an extreme comparison, I know, but most introverts know what I'm talking about. By contrast, many extroverts have absolutely no clue what we go through. And even the more empathic extroverts, and even introverts, are not socialized to question the universality of the "Party equals Fun" equation.
So we question ourselves: "Why can't I be more fun? Why don't I have more fun? Everyone else is having a great time! What's wrong with me?" This self-alienation is a part of the torture. If you felt alone in your desire to leave, you feel alien when you scan a room full of laughing, smiling partiers. I'm one of those introverts with well-honed social skills, and I have even danced on the occasional table, but I have felt sheer panic when my exhaustion precedes my exit. It's like the Cinderella story with a twist: I want to get out of there and into my duds before midnight—or ten, or eight.
Now an extrovert, or even your therapist, might suggest that if you're stuck, "justmake the best of it" and join in. Let's get this straight: making the best of it and joining in are mutually exclusive at this point in the game.Why? Because whatever small ration of energy you have left will be consumed by such an effort. Deep down, you know this, which is why you remain frozen at the fringes, even as you tell yourself you really should join in.
Fortunately, there are ways we can make things better. And they won't involve acting like an extrovert. Remember, your power source is introversion. Let's look at how to drink in some of that.
"NO" IS AN OPTION
Yes, saying "No" is an option.
"Thanks, but no."
"No thanks."
"Hell, no."
Whatever works for you, it's your option.
Though this two-letter word is the simplest and clearest response, it's not easy for many of us to say. Why? Because, according to the prevailing extroversion assumption, inviting you is a nice gesture, and pressuring you is a compliment—an indication that you are wanted. How many times have you equivocated on or even declined an invitation, only to be asked again—and again?
So, if your friend is being nice, you certainly don't want to look a gift horse in the mouth and say "no!" That would be rude! Out of curiosity, I looked up the gift horse proverb. The gist of it is: if you are given a horse as a gift, just be grateful; don't scrutinize the horse by looking at its teeth—an indicator of the horse's age and value. In other words, take it "as is," and be grateful.
But just as receiving a horse is a problem if you have no room for it, the offer of a party is a burden for many introverts. So if your friend knows you at all, she is being rude by pressuring you to do something that is bad for you. Yes, bad for you. Engaging in a painful activity that leaves you feeling crummy about yourself is self-destructive. But your friend is probably not a jerk—you wouldn't have chosen her for a friend if she were. She's just following the social rules. And you may be following them too.
I have certainly caught myself supporting the extroversion assumption as I decline an invitation, feigning disappointment and loser status: "Darn, that sounds so fun, but I have plans that night/am swamped with work/need to take care of my sick dog." These responses come so automatically that we may not even realize how misleading they are. We convince others that we are truly disappointed, thereby assuring continued invitations. We even do this with close friends! This finally sunk in for me when my best extrovert friend invited me, for a second time, to a "can't miss" annual Halloween costume party. I smiled and said to her, "That's an introvert's idea of hell." She smiled back and said, "Really?" I said, "Yep. Especially if it's big, and I don't know very many people." She said, "Yeah, there'll be a lot of people there. You won't want to go."
Though many introverts struggle with the "gift horse" problem, we may also avoid "no" out of FOMO, or Fear Of Missing Out. We worry, "What if I'm wrong? What if I'm really missing out on something I would love?" Add all the party propaganda coming our way, and our FOMO gets us to go "just this once" to check it out. After going just this once to every social event in town, you make the "A" list and have sealed your reservation in hell.
If you cringe at the idea of going, avoid the long detour home that is the party, and say "no." Yes, you'll miss out. You'll miss having to meet people you'll never talk to again. You'll miss being cornered by the party's extreme talker. You'll miss working overtime without pay. And you'll miss out on the alienation and self-reproach that come hand-in-hand with trying to have a good time.
But while "just say no" campaigns sound good, they are often unhelpful when it comes to real life situations. The challenge is to take the clarity of NO and adapt it to the invitation conversation. Let's look at an example:
Extrovert Friend: Hey, my friend Jane and her husband are having a party this weekend. Their parties are always great, and they're going all out this year. You should come!
Introvert: Hmm, I don't think so. (The introvert is thinking, appropriately cautious, and slowing the pace of the conversation.)
Extrovert: Oh, come on. You'll have a great time!
Introvert: You see, I'm different from you that way. That kind of event is not that fun for me. (changing a universal assumption to a subjective, individual one) Extrovert: Oh, but this is different than a lot of the lame parties in town...
Introvert: But that's just the problem. The more "successful" the party, the less I'm likely to enjoy it.
Extrovert: Okay, now I'm totally confused. (good—you've deconstructed the assumption) Introvert: I can see why yo
u'd be confused. When it comes to parties, you and I are probably opposites: you like them big and stimulating. I don't like parties very much in general, but the ones I like are small and intimate.
Extrovert: (at this point the extrovert may get it, or may push harder) That's too bad. I was really hoping you'd go with me.
Introvert: That's sweet of you, but think about it: you won't want to hang with me all night. You'll want to talk with everyone, and as you mingle, I'll feel abandoned.
Extrovert: I would never do that!
Introvert: That's not my point. I think it's great that you enjoy talking to so many people! It's just not my thing. If I spend time with you, I like you all to myself. It is not fair for me to expect that of you at a party, and it's not fair for you to expect me to mingle.
Extrovert: Hmm, that makes sense.
This kind of conversation is easier one-on-one, especially with a close friend. But it can also be hard for a good friend to realize that something he enjoys is no fun for you. Your friend has a right to feel whatever he feels about it, but that doesn't mean you need to change how you feel. Introvert-extrovert friends often negotiate compromises once these differences are acknowledged. It is one thing to go to a party to help out a friend who needs you and appreciates what it means for you to go. But it's another, much harder, thing to go under the oppression of an assumption that excludes you.
As in the example above, saying no to a friend can be the beginning of understanding. Some friends may admit that they don't really like parties that much either. Once you start challenging the extroversion assumption, it will start to crumble all around you. You may be surprised at the anti-party sentiment that others had been keeping at bay.
I prefer to interact with people one-on-one. Any more than that, and the dynamic becomes competitive and then I get bored easily when I'm not directly participating in the exchange. I have fought this for years, feeling it was more "polite" or appropriate to chime in with pieces of my mind. Not anymore. I'm fine sitting back and letting others try to outshine each other.
—Suzanne, paralegal by day, who would rather spend her downtime reading, crafting, painting, writing, running, walking, or shopping—alone.
But what if the person inviting you is not a close friend, and you don't really want to get into it? You may still want to do a little introvert activism and tell the person that you don't enjoy large gatherings, but appreciate that he or she thought of you. If you want to get to know that person better, you could suggest getting together for lunch instead.
If you just want to get out of it, there's always the introvert backup: "other plans." Be prepared for an intrusive extrovert to inquire about your plans. You don't have to honor the question: just look at the person as if you are sure you heard him wrong (the "surely you didn't just ask me to explain what I'm doing" look) and go on as if he truly did not ask.
Regardless of the situation, adopting the introversion assumption will help. If we assume introversion, we can assume, "Parties are generally disappointing and stressful, and there are loads of better options." It will take discipline and practice to resist the knee-jerk impulse to apologize and/or defend your reasons for not going. Stay somewhere between "No way in hell" and "I hate that I've got plans that night—it sounds so fun!" Acknowledge the good intentions of the person inviting you, and then decline without equivocation.
PROS AND CONS What if you have mixed feelings
What if you have mixed feelings about going? There is a great deal of variability among introverts and among parties: some introverts have a lot of extrovert in their personalities, and some parties have introvert appeal. Get the information you need to make an informed choice. Look at these factors:
• How big is the party? Get a guesstimate on how many people are expected. As a general rule, more people will mean more energy drain.
• What is the setting for the party? An indoor party in the middle of winter will probably feel more confining than a summer party on somebody's farm. Consider the people-to-space ratio. Are there places to hide out and be alone? Are there places to sit? Can you easily take a walk?
• Do you know most of the people there? This is a huge factor for introverts. A party of intimate friends is a completely different animal from the "meet and greet" type of party. The fewer people you know, the more oppressive the party will be. And even if you know people, do you know them well enough to cut past the preliminaries? Will introverted friends be there?
• Is there something to do other than talk? The worst parties for introverts are in uncomfortable and confined settings, where the only options at hand are to talk or to stand and watch other people talk.
• How easy will it be to leave? Here's another biggie. If there is a lot of ceremony involved, it may be very difficult to extract yourself without seeming rude.
In addition to the party setup, you'll want to consider the person inviting you. There are good reasons to attend even the worst kind of party, like when your boss invites you, or when your partner really wants to take you, or when your extroverted friend just got dumped by his girlfriend and needs the party and you. But even in these cases, there is often room for negotiation.
ESTABLISHING YOUR TERMS
The toughest party situations usually have to do with work. If your boss tells you to go, it's probably a good idea to go. It helps to be clear in your own mind that this event is work, and to think about the role you are being asked to play. If your company is hosting a party, see if you can volunteer to help out, preferably behind the scenes. This will give you something to do other than talking and will also impress your boss. Of course, playing bartender or running for supplies may not be an option if you're a high profile employee. If your job is to mingle, think of yourself as an actor, playing your work role while reserving a part of yourself to observe and narrate the situation. But be clear with yourself: the party is work, and does not count as your weekend entertainment!
What about a party that is really important to a loved one? Here are some negotiating points to consider:
• Introvert time. You'll need downtime to restore your energy. How will you get that? If you're a couple with kids, your spouse may agree to entertain the children the next evening so you can have the house to yourself. If you know you won't get enough one-on-one time with your date, work that in too. Making an appearance and going out afterwards can be a nice compromise.
• Driving arrangements. Drive separately, agree on a departure time, arrange to leave early with another introvert, or have your date spring for cab fare home.
• Establish a "no abandonment" rule. If your partner or friend really wants you along, he or she can also be a friend by staying with you or "checking in" if you mingle separately, and by taking "breaks" with you for one-on-one activity or conversation. You can even establish nonverbal signals to communicate your status, such as "break," "bored," and "done."
There are rare circumstances that may call for a full immersion in the party scene in the name of love. When a dear extroverted friend of mine was reeling after a tough breakup, I accompanied her to a huge, high-end party that I would not otherwise be caught dead attending. My only reservation was the cost, which she happily covered for both of us. I stayed by her side, endured the numerous introductions, helped her snub her ex, who was also there, and eventually got out of the way when she met up with a former love interest of hers. As they danced, I took a long walk in the moonlight, sat on the hillside, made a couple of calls on my cell, sat in my Miata and looked up at the sky. I checked in on my friend between these excursions, and even accompanied her to the after party—the dance partner was also headed that way. I stayed until I assessed that she was in good hands, and finally drove home sometime before dawn. I knew my presence meant a lot to her, and I didn't carry away an ounce of resentment.
INTROVERTING AT THE PARTY
If you decide to go, be a good friend to yourself and stick with your introversion. Here's how:
• Pla
n your escape. Before you go, develop your exit strategy. If your date or friend has agreed to leave early with you, have a backup plan. Agreements can break down—your friend falls in love, your partner gets a chance to talk to an important contact. Work out in advance how you'll get home if "Plan A" fails. If you are not driving separately, have a taxi service or friend or both on call, phone number programmed into your cell. Bring money. Also think through how to escape confining conversations and how to leave unfashionably early. You can always ask a friend or family member to call at a certain time and "need you."
• Be a flâneur. This approach is best suited to a large party with mostly strangers. Bringing a notebook, camera, or sketchpad will establish a boundary and vantage point for observation. Pretend you're invisible and walk among people without trying to engage. Being comfortably alone at a party communicates confidence; trying too hard to engage actually puts you in a weaker position. If you're in someone's home, study the artwork and bookcases; look through picture albums and coffee table books that have been placed out. Use the party as artistic material.
• Bring your cell phone. A cell phone is an automatic excuse for privacy. There doesn't even have to be anyone on the other end! You can dictate a story about the party into your voice mail at home.
• Go for a walk. A walk in the fresh air can help restore your energy. To avoid having a search party looking for you, let your escort or host know you're stepping out for a bit but will be back.
• Find an animal or child. Play with the family pet or rock a baby as the mom mingles. These less verbal companions can provide comfort while meeting a need.
• Find an introvert. See if you can identify the introverts in the room. By consciously looking, you will notice people who are bored, off somewhere else in their minds or trying to convince a friend that it's time to go. You'll see people sneaking out early. Look to the fringes of the party and in the shadows. If you find someone who looks as lost as you feel, risk saying "hello" and perhaps, "are you as bored as I am?" You may have found a friend.
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