An introvert walks into a party...

I wrote this in an attempt to demonstrate to my husband how I often feel in social situations.  No pity or guilt necessary...just thought some might be able to relate.  I hope to follow up at a later date with what God is teaching me as one of his introverted children.  This paints a good picture to start with.  

We round the corner and step through the doorway, greeted by hand shakes and social niceties. Quickly forgotten in a sea of faces, I turn to my bag, hoping that it will grant me momentary relief. Faithful friend. Maybe if I pretend I’m busy, it won’t be painfully obvious that I don’t belong.

The room is a-chatter, but all I can hear is the beat of my own heart, racing, as it wonders who will be the first to cross the line. His face is one of sympathy and partial obligation. We waltz the waltz of weather and work. The orchestra slows as the song comes to an end, and he’s off to dance another dance with a more interesting girl.

My dance card is empty so I excuse myself to go powder my nose. That should get me through at least one more song unnoticed. I refill my drink, nodding at the man behind the bar. Sipping ever-so-slowly in hopes that no one, or someone, will approach me.

An announcement saves me. Organized fun. As the crowd gathers in, it’s as though I belong. But I don’t. And I won’t. No matter how hard I try. I’m just not one of “those” people. The kind people like.

I offer to help. Another tactic I’ve learned to make myself invisibly visible. I’ve made my mark on the party. Remember, I served the cake?

I watch as the others enjoy food and friends. Counting the seconds down in my head. I smile, but no one smiles back in return. They’re too busy eating the cake that I served.

I grab my coat as the party comes to an end. Almost free, just a few quick goodbyes (which I dread). I offer my thanks as I step out the door, round the corner and head back to my car. Faithful friend in tow.