I used to think I was better off keeping to myself.

Not in a dramatic way. Just... you know, introverted.

People were complicated and often dramatic. I actually like my own company. And honestly? I assumed the real me would be too much. Or not enough. Or just wrong somehow.

So I stayed quiet. Kept things surface-level. When invitations came, I'd politely decline, or show up and stay silent.

Remote work was supposed to be perfect for people like me.

Turns out, it just gave me more places to hide.

The Exhausting Middle Ground

Here's the thing about being quiet in social settings: you're not actually avoiding vulnerability.

You're just living in constant fear of it.

I'd have a great conversation, share something real, and then spend the next three days replaying every word. Did that story go on too long? Did I sound weird?

The anxiety was exhausting. And I genuinely believed people were happier without the unfiltered version of me.

What Actually Shifted

A year into remote work, I had a realization during a virtual coffee chat.

I'd been unusually open, shared an actual struggle, not the curated version.

The person said, "Oh my god, thank you. I thought I was the only one."

And I realized: my silence wasn't protecting anyone. It was just keeping me lonely.

The Vulnerability Experiment

I started small.

Instead of staying quiet, I'd share one genuine reaction. Even if my voice shook.

When I felt post-conversation anxiety, I'd tell myself: "If they don't like me, that's none of my business."

Not everyone had to like me. Some people probably wouldn't. And that was... fine?

Taking It Offline (This Took Guts)

Virtual vulnerability was one thing. But showing up in person? In a new city where I knew nobody?

That felt impossible.

When I was living in Panama, I saw a Meetup for expats. I showed up. Said hi. Was awkward for the first 20 minutes.

And then... it was fine. I met people. Had real conversations. Let myself laugh about my Spanish grammar errors.

Fast forward to now: I'm in Asheville, NC, and I actually go to lunches and community events—but only the ones I really want to.

I'm still selective. I'm an introvert. But when I go, I go as myself.

I talk about what I'm actually creating. I share how much I love what I do, with full, dorky enthusiasm. I admit when small talk makes me uncomfortable and just dive in with deep questions.

And you know what? The right people think that's fun and refreshing.

I attract people who like the real me. The others move along. It's okay.

Your Turn

If you're an introvert who thinks you're protecting people by staying quiet, I get it.

If you replay conversations for days, I see you.

Try this: Next time you feel the urge to hold back, don't.

Say the thing. Share the thought. Let yourself be seen.

Some people will love it. Some won't. And you'll be okay either way.

The Bottom Line: Building authentic relationships as an introvert isn't about forcing yourself to be more social. It's about being more real when you do show up. Your people are out there, but they can't find you if you're hiding.