Sorry I'm Late, I Didn't Want to Come Quotes

“It's not that we want others to fail, but we need to know that our own sorrows have echoes in others people's lives. That's what connects us. Strength may be impressive, but it's vulnerability that builds friendships.”
― Jessica Pan, Sorry I'm Late, I Didn't Want to Come: An Introvert's Year of Living Dangerously

“That’s the truth of the world, Jessica,” he says, casually full-naming me to let me know something big is coming. “Nobody waves—but everybody waves back."

I hear his mic drop all the way from Chicago.”
― Jessica Pan, Sorry I'm Late, I Didn't Want to Come: An Introvert's Year of Living Dangerously

“Social anxiety is a completely normal experience. We are social animals. We want to be accepted by our peer groups and we do not want to be rejected. If people do not have any social anxiety, something is seriously wrong with them.”
― Jessica Pan, Sorry I'm Late, I Didn't Want to Come: An Introvert’s Year of Living Dangerously

“I’m in search of something more than a new place, though. I’m in search of a feeling and a state of being: that magical time when you can’t possibly predict what’s going to happen next or whom you are going to meet or where they are going to take you. In this state, everything flows, every surprise is a delight, and new people guide you to special adventures.”
― Jessica Pan, Sorry I'm Late, I Didn't Want to Come: An Introvert's Year of Living Dangerously

“I don’t volunteer. I don’t participate in organized religion. I don’t play team sports. Where do selfish, godless, lazy people go to make friends? That’s where I need to be.”
― Jessica Pan, Sorry I'm Late, I Didn't Want to Come: One Introvert's Year of Saying Yes

“The main accepted definition is that introverts get their energy from being alone, whereas extroverts get their energy from being around other people.”
― Jessica Pan, Sorry I'm Late, I Didn't Want to Come: One Introvert's Year of Saying Yes

“Talking is what bonds us to other people the most, and we are supposed to learn this through experience out in the real world, but I’d spent that time hibernating with a book.”
― Jessica Pan, Sorry I'm Late, I Didn't Want to Come: One Introvert's Year of Saying Yes

“Loneliness, on the other hand, has no age bracket. I used to think that exciting countries could keep you happy and warm on novelty alone. Now I know: you can move to Paris, delight in the city, drink your cafe au lait, but no matter how pretty the buildings and balconies are, eventually you're going to find yourself hugging the lamp posts for company like you're in Les Miserables.”
― Jessica Pan , Sorry I'm Late, I Didn't Want to Come: An Introvert's Year of Living Dangerously

“I had a lot of time to sit around and ponder: what did I really want from life? Really, I wanted a job, some new friends who I felt truly connected to and more confidence. Was that so much to ask? Surely not. So what were other people out there with jobs and close friends and rich, fulfilling lives doing that I wasn’t? Eventually, and with mounting fear, I realised: they were having new experiences, taking risks, making new connections. They were actually out there, living in the world instead of staring out at it.”
― Jessica Pan, Sorry I'm Late, I Didn't Want to Come: An Introvert's Year of Living Dangerously

“The fear and bleak reality of being boring and dying having never connected with anyone is vastly underestimated.”
― Jessica Pan, Sorry I'm Late, I Didn't Want to Come: One Introvert's Year of Saying Yes

“small coven I could count on to cast spells on my enemies. Brené Brown calls these friends “move a body” friends. You know. The people you call when you accidentally murder somebody.”
― Jessica Pan, Sorry I'm Late, I Didn't Want to Come: One Introvert's Year of Saying Yes

“A man in his thirties raises his hand. “But people don’t always want to share their personal feelings and life, right? Some people might hate that.” Mark turns to him. He tells him, sure, maybe, but the fear of being intrusive is hugely exaggerated. The more important point is this: what we should actually fear is being boring and dying having never connected with anyone. Then he stares at all of us, meaningfully, and says it again, slowly. “The fear and bleak reality of being boring and dying having never connected with anyone is vastly underestimated.”
― Jessica Pan, Sorry I'm Late, I Didn't Want to Come: An Introvert's Year of Living Dangerously

“Where do you go to make friends when you’re an adult? No, honestly, I’m asking, where do you do this? There are no more late-night study sessions or university social events. And while meeting friends at work is the obvious answer, your options are very limited if you don’t click with your colleagues or if you’re self-employed. (Also, if you’re only friends with people at work, who do you complain about your colleagues too?)
I don’t volunteer. I don’t participate in organised religion. I don’t play team sports.
Where do selfish, godless, lazy people go to make friends? That’s where I need to be.
Nearly all of my closest friends have been assigned to me: either via seating chats at school, university room-mates, or desk buddies at work. After taking stock, I realise that most of my friends were forced to sit one metre away from me for several hours at a time. I’ve never actively reached out to make a new friend who wasn’t within touching distance.
With no helpful administrators, just how do we go about making friends as adults? Is it possible to cultivate that intense closeness without the heady combination of naivety, endless hours of free time on hand and lack of youthful inhibitions? Or is that lost for ever after we hit thirty?”
― Jessica Pan, Sorry I'm Late, I Didn't Want to Come: An Introvert's Year of Living Dangerously

“On the phone, Nick Epley had told me that he thinks that society, in which individuals are more isolated than ever before, would be happier if people talked to each other and made small connections when it’s easy to. When you’re both waiting in the same queue for twenty minutes; when the plane is delayed, you’re stuck at the gate, you’ve already listened to four podcasts and you’re admiring the shoes of the woman sitting next to you and want to tell her about something you just heard on Radio 4 but feel weird about it; when you want to ask the person eating lunch on a park bench where they got their delicious-smelling curry – maybe just do it. Most people will enjoy it.
And if you’re game to really talk, head into Deep Self territory. But don’t, say, grab a book out of someone’s hands and ask, ‘So, when was the last time you cried in front of someone else?’ (Trust me on that one. Although this question has been tested by Nick and will get you into fertile Deep Talk territory real fast.)”
― Jessica Pan, Sorry I'm Late, I Didn't Want to Come: An Introvert's Year of Living Dangerously

“People are usually very happy to answer personal questions if they feel the person asking them is genuine and kind.”
― Jessica Pan, Sorry I'm Late, I Didn't Want to Come: An Introvert's Year of Living Dangerously

“So you’re saying you could come to London and just talk to strangers up and down the Tube all day long?’ I ask.
‘Absolutely,’ he says.
Arrest this man.”
― Jessica Pan, Sorry I'm Late, I Didn't Want to Come: An Introvert's Year of Living Dangerously

“I feel like the kindly village idiot wandering the city. But try as I might, I can’t get past the mundane. Stefan helped me make contact with strangers. Now I needed someone to help me connect with them.”
― Jessica Pan, Sorry I'm Late, I Didn't Want to Come: An Introvert's Year of Living Dangerously

“A dinner party is social and unpredictable and requires juggling many things at once—all things introverts aren’t crazy about. For me, it meant so many anxieties to be addressed in one evening: fear of cooking bad food (a rational fear—I regularly burn dinner), fear of being held hostage by guests (how do you have an exit strategy in your own home?),”
― Jessica Pan, Sorry I'm Late, I Didn't Want to Come: One Introvert's Year of Saying Yes

“Good friends, family, and some vague acquaintances were sitting on my bed--which was incidentally the very place I usually went to escape from those good friends, family, and vague acquaintances. I had nowhere to hide. They were here for a party. How long until they left?”
― Jessica Pan, Sorry I'm Late, I Didn't Want to Come: An Introvert's Year of Living Dangerously

“My confidence was dangerously high. Like, tall-American-men-after-four-beers high.”
― Jessica Pan, Sorry I'm Late, I Didn't Want to Come: One Introvert's Year of Saying Yes

“Research says that we have the most friends we’ll ever have when we are twenty-nine, while other studies say we start to lose friends after the age of twenty-five.”
― Jessica Pan, Sorry I'm Late, I Didn't Want to Come: One Introvert's Year of Saying Yes

“I watched my first penalty shoot-out during the World Cup 2014 (Brazil vs. Chile): men cried, I cried, Neymar cried. I was done for. I loved it.”
― Jessica Pan, Sorry I'm Late, I Didn't Want to Come: An Introvert's Year of Living Dangerously

“I hate flakiness, and I blame the Facebook ‘Maybe’ button,” she tells me. “It’s not OK to say maybe and see if something better comes up. I believe in saying a solid yes or no because it’s polite. Saying no is hard but ultimately makes you a better person. For example, I’ve been invited to lots of parties (which is so nice!), but I am saying no to lots of them because I simply don’t have time. It’s not rude; it’s being honest.”
― Jessica Pan, Sorry I'm Late, I Didn't Want to Come: An Introvert's Year of Living Dangerously

“I’m about to head out the door to meet Hannah for coffee. Laura has texted asking if I want to take another improv course with her next month, and I’ve said yes. I’m reading the next book for our book club. Paul and his girlfriend are coming over for dinner next week. Sam and I are going to make Thanksgiving at ours an annual tradition. Claude and I are email pen pals now, and he always signs off, ‘I hope that you are well and that you do nice things,’ which I like very much. Lily and Vivian are trying to persuade me to perform comedy again. Probably I’ll just go along to their gigs and cheer them on. And there’s nothing wrong with that.
I have a tiny little social life. A new way to experience the world when I want to. I really like my comfort zone, but I also know I’ll be OK if I leap into the unknown or the scary for a little while.”
― Jessica Pan, Sorry I'm Late, I Didn't Want to Come: An Introvert's Year of Living Dangerously

“When Sam and I were living in Australia, one winter weekend we rented a cottage in the countryside. We toured local wineries by day and at sunset we wrapped ourselves up in blankets on the porch overlooking the valley below, tucking into our bounty of wine and local cheese. I can’t remember who initiated it (OK, fine, probably me), but we decided that during this magic hour while day turned to night we could ask each other anything.
This moment in our relationship changed everything. I got to ask all my questions and so did Sam. We also had to answer them. I think for both of us it’s the night we tipped over from infatuation to falling in love. Even now, the phrase ‘wine and cheese hour’ is shorthand for this safe space, when we need to sit down and reconnect. This is so bougie and painful to admit, especially because I don’t even like wine and this is now far more likely to be ‘coffee and Jaffa cake hour’. (Vodka and Pringles works, too.)”
― Jessica Pan, Sorry I'm Late, I Didn't Want to Come: An Introvert's Year of Living Dangerously

“Looking back from a safe distance on those long days spent alone, I can just about frame it as a funny anecdote, but the reality was far more painful. I recently found my journal from that time and I had written, ‘I’m so lonely that I actually think about dying.’
Not so funny.
I wasn’t suicidal. I’ve never self-harmed. I was still going to work, eating food, getting through the day. There are a lot of people who have felt far worse. But still, I was inside my own head all day, every day, and I went days without feeling like a single interaction made me feel seen or understood. There were moments when I felt this darkness, this stillness from being so totally alone, descend. It was a feeling that I didn’t know how to shake; when it seized me, I wanted it to go away so much that when I imagined drifting off to sleep and never waking up again just to escape it, I felt calm.
I remember it happening most often when I’d wake up on a Saturday morning, the full weekend stretching out ahead of me, no plans, no one to see, no one waiting for me. Loneliness seemed to hit me hardest when I felt aimless, not gripped by any initiative or purpose. It also struck hard because I lived abroad, away from close friends or family.
These days, a weekend with no plans is my dream scenario. There are weekends in London that I set aside for this very purpose and they bring me great joy. But life is different when it is fundamentally lonely.
During that spell in Beijing, I made an effort to make friends at work. I asked people to dinner. I moved to a new flat, waved (an arm’s-length) goodbye to Louis and found a new roommate, a gregarious Irishman, who ushered me into his friendship group. I had to work hard to dispel it, and on some days it felt like an uphill battle that I might not win, but eventually it worked. The loneliness abated.
It’s taken me a long time to really believe, to know, that loneliness is circumstantial. We move to a new city. We start a new job. We travel alone. Our families move away. We don’t know how to connect with loved ones any more. We lose touch with friends. It is not a damning indictment of how lovable we are.”
― Jessica Pan, Sorry I'm Late, I Didn't Want to Come: An Introvert's Year of Living Dangerously

“A few days after that dinner, I catch up with my new friend Paul over coffee. He is telling me about a time when he cycled from the Netherlands to Spain – a many-months-long endeavour that he completed solo. I try to imagine myself in this scenario.
‘Were you lonely?’ I ask.
Paul pauses, taken aback by the question.
And this is the problem with Deep Talk. Not only do you have to be a bit vulnerable and a bit ballsy to ask the questions in the first place, but you’re also asking whoever you’re speaking with to be the same: open up, take your hand and embrace the depths.
Paul furrows his brow. After a beat, he nods.
‘Yeah, I was,’ he says.
‘What did you do to combat it?’
‘I wrote in my journal a lot,’ he tells me. ‘I went for walks. But I was still really lonely.’
He tells me that he’s good at talking to people but that in most of the places where he stopped along the way people were pretty guarded.
When I play back this conversation in my head, I wonder how differently pre-sauna Jess would have handled it. Given that I don’t know Paul well, I would have probably asked about logistics, or how many miles he covered per day, or what kind of bike he rode. Maybe, at best, I’d have launched into a story about a bike seat I’d used in Beijing that was such a literal arse ache that I could barely walk for two weeks, followed by a monologue about the realities of life with thigh chaffing.
I am so impressed by how open Paul is with me. He could have lied and told me, nah, he doesn’t get lonely, that he relished the time alone on the road, he was a lone wolf, a cowboy striking out into the sunset with nothing but his trusty metallic steed.
One of the most vital parts of Deep Talk is that it has to be a two-way process – both parties have to be willing to share, to disclose, to be vulnerable. If you initiate it with someone but don’t give back, you’re likely just harassing innocent people to share extremely personal information.
I realise I probably shouldn’t go around asking men about their loneliness and not share my own experience of it. Since we’re all in this together, I’ll tell you, too.”
― Jessica Pan, Sorry I'm Late, I Didn't Want to Come: An Introvert's Year of Living Dangerously

“She and I spend a good twenty minutes talking about sperm (truly a magnificent topic), then dry shampoo, then book recommendations. We talk so much that we get distracted from our work. And it clicks. I’ve been on so many average friend-dates and had so many lacklustre networking chats that I now recognise chemistry when I see it. I take the leap of faith and ask for her number.
She invites me to her book club. This time, I don’t have to walk into an unfamiliar flat full of strangers alone – I walk in with her, my new friend, who introduces me to everyone.
A small book club, at someone’s house, eating homemade pie: this was where I want to be. It is somehow one of the most outgoing things I have ever done and also somehow feels kinda normal. Everyone here works in the same field, but we aren’t talking about work. We are drinking wine and discussing the book over dinner. Casual. Intimate. This is what Emma had meant. And it all started with a single question: what was the deal with all this sperm from Denmark in the noughties?”
― Jessica Pan, Sorry I'm Late, I Didn't Want to Come: An Introvert's Year of Living Dangerously

“I practise my material on Sam, a lot. I know now that the true test of a strong relationship is yelling into your partner’s face, ‘I DON’T THINK YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT A JOKE IS!’ and them yelling back, ‘I KNOW WHAT JOKES ARE, I’M JUST NOT HEARING ANY!’ and managing to stay together.”
― Jessica Pan, Sorry I'm Late, I Didn't Want to Come: An Introvert's Year of Living Dangerously

“Sometimes, though, friendship is like love. You can’t plan for it. It finds you in unlikely places. Or in the most obvious place imaginable.
One evening, I get back from a run and am doubled over, recovering and panting in front of my building. The entrance opens and a woman pops out, taking out her rubbish.
‘I’m not loitering,’ I tell her when she gives me a funny look.
‘Oh, I didn’t think you were loitering,’ she says. ‘I thought you lived here.’
‘Oh. I do. I do live here. On the third floor.’
We introduce ourselves. Her name is Hannah and she’s from the Netherlands. As she turns to go back inside, I say, ‘Hey! Do you want to swap numbers? Just in case … there’s a fire or something?’
I can tell my year is already changing me. Talking to strangers has made me less shy and even though I still had to make it a bit weird with the whole fire thing. A few weeks later, Hannah and her husband have Sam and me over for dinner in their flat because we stored a package for them when they were on holiday. Hannah has hundreds of books and I leave her flat with an armful to borrow.
A few months later Hannah texts out of the blue, saying, ‘Want to grab a coffee with me right now?’ And I do.
The elusive perfect friend-date: spontaneous, with good coffee, great conversation and no commute. We’d also had the spark, both having read several of the same books, both of us the same age, both of us struggling with similar things.
She’d been living downstairs the entire time. But if I hadn’t gone through so many friend-dates and false starts, I know I would have asked for her number when we met. In fact, given how I normally treated my neighbours in London and how insular I was before all this began, I probably would have just pretended to be loitering.”
― Jessica Pan, Sorry I'm Late, I Didn't Want to Come: An Introvert's Year of Living Dangerously