I Am Not a Party-Harder

A typical Friday evening. We are enjoying a beer in the living room with my housemates. Suddenly and quite expectedly, one proposes to go to a bar and continue having fun there. All are in, except me. I don’t feel like going, especially when I want to get up early the next morning.

I therefore decline the invitation, under the unbelieving gaze of my housemates. They try to change my mind, tell me that it will be fun, that I shouldn’t stay alone at home. Unfortunately (more for them than for me I feel), I don’t change my mind, and as soon as they’re gone, I make myself a tea, take a book and actually spend a very nice evening.

Yet, I feel guilty for a moment. Guilty of being who I am, guilty of not being social enough. Guilty of being the annoying one. Then I wonder: Am I, really?

True, I rarely feel like going to a bar and party. I find these places a bit too noisy, the socialization a bit too shallow. Also true, I need a lot of time on my own, because social interactions drain me, no matter how enjoyable they are (#teamintrovert).

Big, crowded spaces are definitely not my thing. Besides, I have some issues with the kind of activities we should be doing on a Friday evening, namely binge-drinking and partying. For me, it doesn’t feel like an efficient way to bond. People get to know a self that you are usually not: more disinhibited, probably more joyful, but still not your usual self. Provided you drank too much, you don’t even remember what happened. Most of us seem to have fun this way, but I personally crave for deeper interactions.

My thing is enjoying the company of a few persons in more quiet places. I like going to the cinema, have a coffee, or take a walk in the forest with a few persons. I go to class and get along with virtually all my classmates. I even work in an association during my free time. I therefore get to meet lots of interesting people with whom I share common interests. This is what makes me happy and gives me energy.

Seeing the joy it brings me, I would call that being social enough.

I prefer socializing in small committees, but I also like to be on my own sometimes. I like becoming a better version of myself through reading, introspection, mediation and so on. And I wouldn’t call that bad either, because I know myself a little more every day and that allows me to make the best choices. I think of Cheryl Strayed, who wrote Wild. That woman basically saves herself by hiking on the Pacific Crest Trail, mostly on her own. She eventually got back to a more traditional way of life, but still, she found peace though loneliness.

Fun: On the Need for a Revisited Definition

That night, I realized nothing was wrong with me. I had just another definition of fun. Not better or worse, just different. So, don’t get me wrong. If partying hard and drinking alcohol is your thing, so be it. What I don’t like is the fact that it seems to be something you have to do. Preferring staying at home with a nice book or a movie is sometimes treated like an abnormality. In sum, even our hobbies are subject to control and criticism. How wrong is that? Shouldn't we be able to do whatever pleases us, as long as nobody suffer from it?

I deepen my reflection a little while taking another sip of my tea: Even though I was a complete antisocial, would it be something bad, if it makes me happy? We tend to value interactions with others, and I don't exclude myself here. But maybe it is not an absolute truth. Maybe some persons are better off on their own, and we should respect that.

I believe that there are millions of ways of having fun, all of them depending on your preferences and personality. And as long as you don’t harm anybody, they are all fine. Maybe we would gain in seeing our hobbies as a spectrum ranging from lonely to super-crowded. People would pick what they feel like, depending on their mood, personality or whatsoever.