As your average to extreme introvert, it is inherently uncomfortable to me that someone could just walk up to my door and expect me to talk to them at any given moment. What is that? That is my hell.
“My ex always did that.”
I think to myself, I want to be a Cool Girl.
The anchors then condescendingly suggested that she should “take a little nap” or “get a Red Bull.”
Embarrassment is the pesky side effect of the miracle drug that is courage.
This article is written by a 23-year-old female who considers herself on the slightly extreme spectrum of introversion.
A few years ago, we had a resurgence of the awkward kid. It was suddenly cool to act like you were awkward, to profess how weird you were in certain situations, and to play up those character traits as cute little quirks.
Dancing in the middle of the room when nobody else is.
The one person you really don’t want to see.
I am not a “cool girl” and no matter how hard I try to be it will never be who I am.