Love People, Use Things: Because the Opposite Never Works

by Joshua Fields Millburn

For years, I didn’t grasp my own penchant for solitude, so I let societal norms dictate my interactions. Although I’m an extreme introvert, my behavior throughout my teens and twenties was that of an extrovert. The career I chose forced me to be a “people person,” spending nearly all of my waking hours actively engaged with others in meetings, on phone calls, and on the sales floor. The only time I had to myself was in the bathroom—door locked and hiding from the chaotic world, if just for a moment. To make matters worse, I’m socially competent, which people tend to mistake for extroversion. This is so common that there was even a period of time I talked myself into thinking I was, indeed, an extrovert. But that’s like an Alaskan salmon talking himself into being a German shepherd—even with the nicest dog collar, that fish isn’t going to bark. It’s not in his nature, just like extroversion isn’t in mine. Consequently, I felt drained by the ceaseless interactions.