Compulsory Extroversion/Involuntary Introversion

DEFINITIONS

Similar portmanteaus:

“Comphet” (Compulsory Heterosexuality) is a term that speaks to the socialization of women in a heteronormative society, that conditions them to seek men out as partners, often overshadowing their actual sexual desires which may not align with this expectation.

“Incel” (Involuntary Celibacy) is a term that describes the state of desiring a sexual partner but being unable to find one, often leading to frustration, resentment, and sometimes extreme violence.

Portmanteaus coined by this piece:

“Compex” (Compulsory Extroversion) is a term that speaks to the socialization of those with good people skills as social butterflies, the life of the party, the designated therapist of the friend group, often overshadowing their actual needs which may not align with this expectation.

“Inin” (Involuntary Introversion) is a term that describes the state of desiring meaningful connections and social interactions but being unable to find it, often leading to frustration, resentment, and sometimes outright avoidance of social settings.

INTRODUCTION

Extroversion and introversion are not, contrary to popular belief, an assessment of personality. They are not even measured in terms of behaviour. Officially, they are defined by where a person gets their energy. It is the source of their actions, not determined by them.

Sometimes there is a dissonance between the outside view and the inside experience. Sometimes sources of energy are not what they seem. Both the Compulsory Extrovert (Compex) and the Involuntary Introvert (Inin) navigate the world stuck in a role that does not feel quite right. This could be due to external societal pressures that impose the wrong identity upon a person, or internal limitations that prevent them from achieving the right one. We ask you to note that the stories recounted here are merely two examples of people who fall into these categories, and keep in mind that like with any identity category, everyone’s situation is unique.

FULL OF SELF (COMPEX)

The concept of “self-care” is laden with certain assumptions and associations. Some tend to think of it as a frivolous trip to the spa, or an online trend related to healthy eating and exercise and juice cleanses. Others think of it as an excuse, a habit of weak people, even. For some, self care is synonymous with selfishness.

Recently, though, I have been discovering what self care really means.

Self care is cancelling plans. It’s eating food that isn’t necessarily healthy. It’s spending too long in the hot shower.

It’s less about what’s good for you than what’s good to you. It’s not a prescription. It’s an exploration. An art, rather than a science. The only thing that matters is what makes you feel good, something only someone who resides in your own mind and body can know.

It’s putting feelings of guilt aside. It’s ridding yourself of pointless apologies. 

It’s not just self-ish. And it’s definitely not self-less. It is self-full. It is being full, brimming with yourself. It is taking up vast quantities of space. It is locking the door. It is taking the time to recharge to full capacity, literally becoming full of your own self.

To be full of yourself has a deeply negative meaning ascribed to it. It connotes arrogance, smugness. But you should not feel ashamed for knowing your own worth.

Chances are, you see me as the opposite of what I am. To you, I am an extrovert. Yes, I have a large group of friends. And true, I’m always talking, texting, listening, giving advice. And granted, I attend the parties and the gatherings, and I know everyone. I do make people laugh. I do make people feel welcome. People do come to me with their problems.

At the end of the day, it is a full time job. Which isn’t to say I’m not good at it, and isn’t to say it’s not rewarding. It is, but in the way hard work is. It doesn’t feel like rest. It doesn’t feel like respite.

That comes when I am at home. I am an introvert. I know who I am.

LIGHTNING ROD (ININ)

I get a great deal of energy from other people, from being around them. The problem is, energy has multiple forms. I am a conductor of anxiety. It crackles through me. It hurts me, and it makes me feel alive.

But mostly, I can’t handle it. So I stay home. I stay off social media. I avoid open spaces. I socialize only in tiny doses, in nonlethal jolts. 

I've always loved school dances, full of darkness and noise and cover. These days, I love going to the club. With the anonymity it gives me, those spaces are my lightning rod.

I am attracted to friendly men and unfriendly women. I like the girls who are too cool to dance, and the boys who are not cool enough to. I like to observe them from afar. 

I also like to immerse myself in humanity. To temporarily attach my emotions to them, like plugging into a random adaptor alongside other people's chargers. 

I like the crush. The crashing waves of music. Jumping up and down amidst faceless bodies, screaming the words to a bad song. It doesn’t matter who I jostle. It doesn’t matter what my voice sounds like. 

I can’t hold a conversation with you. Chances are, I can barely even hold eye contact. I am terrified of a judgement that always looms, the storm cloud that goes along with the lightning.

I have never been able to make friends on the level that I want to. I have never been able to make plans. I am perpetually missing out. Some people crave sex, but are crippled with performance anxiety. I long for social connections, but I am impaired by my own anxiety. This social anxiety I can’t seem to escape.

I am an extrovert on the inside, just not an active one. I am not socially active. I am stagnant. Time is wasting. Opportunities are slipping away. But I am often too scared to venture back into the storm.

Still, there are those moments. Glimmers, thrills. I am an extrovert. I know who I am.