I am a solid ENFP. To give you more of a grasp on this personality type, Michael Scott’s character from The Office is considered an ENFP. Anyone who knows me can probably agree with me and Michael’s common ground. A little strange, outspoken, frequently blurting “that’s what she said”, and as a true extrovert — I love my people.

“The ENFP personality is a true free spirit. They are often the life of the party, but unlike similar types, ENFP’s are less interested in the sheer excitement and pleasure of the moment than they are in enjoying the social and emotional connections they make with others.

Charming, independent, energetic and compassionate, the 7% of the population that they comprise can certainly be felt in any crowd.”

The presence of another human being makes me feel alive and in my element. Speaking to others. Supporting others. Cooking for others. Just generally being there.

In times before the pandemic, being alone wasn’t a complete dealbreaker. It was easier to find avenues to forge new connections with others. I would travel alone, attend concerts alone, and sit in coffee shops alone. I found comfort in approaching new people and creating new bonds. In these pre-pandemic independent pursuits, I had a new group of people around me to connect with and maybe make a new friend.

Coffee shops, those were my favorite. When they were open, I would stake out in one all day instead of work at home alone because I wanted to hear the buzz of other people’s conversations. That energy fueled me.

Travel, concerts, and coffee shops are unfortunately a thing of the past, for now.

My Love For (& Jealously Of) Introverts

I read my Meyer’s Briggs personality type like a horoscope and am shocked at how accurate it can be — enjoying the social and emotional connections I make with others. I live for that shit, and sometimes, I wish I didn’t. Through the endless drone of quarantine days, I often wish to be an introvert.

I love my introvert friends. The most, I think. I prefer introvert company, someone who balances me. The person I’ve fallen the hardest for identifies as a strong INTJ.

The pandemic suppressed the environments I thrived in, but if we’re being optimistic, it’s also opened up an opportunity to grasp the art of being alone.

I’ve had the privilege of having a significant other who is comfortable with that art. I’m grateful for someone who wants to spend time at home and is perfectly happy sitting in the same room together without saying a word. They’re intriguing, give me a sense of balance, and I think on some level, I envy them. I curious of their ability to go home, enjoy being alone, and find peace in quiet solitude.

I think I could (I should) learn a lot from my introverted counterparts.

The Extrovert Hangover

I often experience an “extrovert hangover”.

After a night of spending time with other humans and feeling that sense of true joy that I can only pull from face to face interaction and good conversation, I wake up the next morning alone with a heavy, crushing sadness on my chest.

I get crazy dopamine hits from being with people, and then it just bottoms out when I am alone.

The Chase For The High Is Exhausting

Being alone is uncomfortable.

If I’m alone at home, you can bet I have the television or a podcast on just to hear someone talking. It’s a little sad.

My brightest days were school or work — those places guaranteed me the presence of others. A video call is a mediocre replacement for these connections. I’ve found myself avoiding them as they just make me “homesick” for actually being with people.

These days, the opportunities to score an extrovert high are few and far between. In the interest of keeping ourselves healthy, however, they can be irresponsible.

Undistinguishable Depression

It’s difficult to have quality insight on what an extrovert may feel when you aren’t around them.

Because once they’re talking with you, they may be washed over with relief. The need for human interaction is being satisfied, and you may not think twice about them having socially-distant pandemic blues.

Your presence is interrupting their deafening solitude, making it difficult for you to clearly distinguish how they’re REALLY doing.

Make sure the people you love are doing alright. Sometimes it’s easy to pinpoint who needs an encouraging text or phone call. Sometimes it isn’t.

Check in on your loud and outgoing friends, too.