I’m not an extrovert, I just play one on TV

Some of you reading this—those of you who’ve known me in different contexts—may be surprised to learn that I’m actually an introvert. A big one. 
I’ve learned to adapt to a world that caters predominantly to extroverts. As I get older, though, the energy required to extrovert has become more difficult to muster. I find myself increasingly retreating to reading, quiet contemplation, and being a passive observer in group settings. I’m more introvert-introvert than introvert-extrovert these days.

There are many misconceptions about the concepts of introversion and extroversion, and I’m not here to school you on personality traits. There’s always Google and ChatGPT if you want to delve into it in more detail.
    In a nutshell, I see myself as an introvert because I prefer to recharge my battery in private. If I don’t get a good dose of “cave time” every day, it impacts my ability to interact with others. Think babbling idiot who frequently inserts both feet in mouth, peppered with blank stares when engaged in conversation. Take your pick—my brain usually decides independently which option it will show the world when I’m spent: either my brain is in overdrive and can’t cope, or it shuts down completely (because it can’t cope).
    Since I’ve been introverting more and more these days, I’ve also been replaying in my head some of my not-so-stellar excursions as an extrovert. Like networking.
    For an introvert, networking can cause heart palpitations, sweaty palms, and a strong desire to flee. No fight-or-flight for this introvert—it’s flight all the time. At a time in my working life when networking was mandatory (downsizing meant I was switching careers), I sought advice from a business coach.
    “How do I handle networking events when all I want to do is run and hide?”
    “When you walk in a room, find the person standing alone and go talk to them. They’re probably feeling the same way.”
    That sounded much less overwhelming than walking up to a group of strangers, and it was something I could possibly attempt without passing out from overwhelm. His parting words stuck with me.
    “It works in social situations too.”
    I decided to put my newfound knowledge to the test when I was invited to a party. I knew the party hosts, but wasn’t sure I’d known anyone else there. I couldn’t rely on shadowing the hosts all evening, as they would be busy with hosting duties.
    When I arrived, several groups of strangers nearly scared me back to my cave. They seemed to know each other quite well, sharing inside jokes and family updates. I wandered around the spacious home, looking for someone I knew or, better yet, someone standing alone. My search led me to the kitchen, where a woman was standing near the sink, a few feet away from a group of partygoers.
    Here was my chance to practise my networking skills and hopefully make a new acquaintance. Try as I might, this woman resisted my attempts at conversation. Was I that bad at small talk?! I skulked out of the kitchen and hovered awkwardly on the outskirts of another group, nursing my bruised ego.
    A few moments later, I saw the object of my failed networking attempt emerge from the kitchen carrying a tray of hors d’oeuvres. She was hired to work the party, not interact with socially-awkward guests like me. I was equal parts relieved and mortified. It wasn’t me! I still beat a hasty retreat back to my cave. 
    Feel free to laugh about my mishap. I laugh about it all the time, now that some time has passed.