Autumn is my favourite season. The colours, the food, the excuse to wear boots again. I'm absolutely here for all of it. What I'm slightly less enthusiastic about is the expectation that enjoying a season requires a social calendar resembling that of a minor royal. I have neither the energy nor the taxpayer funding.
Don't get me wrong, I love a day out. I love seeing my friends, going for a lovely meal and making plans that give me something to look forward to. I'm just also a firm believer that a good day out should end with me back in my own home at a reasonable hour.
Preferably with absolutely nothing planned for the following day.
Welcome to autumn, introvert edition.
The Social Battery Is Not Unlimited
There's a common misconception that introverts don't like people. Personally, I love people. Well, some people. Let's not get carried away.
I can spend an entire afternoon chatting, laughing and thoroughly enjoying myself, but eventually, something happens. My social battery starts flashing red and suddenly the prospect of sitting in complete silence becomes incredibly appealing.
It's nothing personal. I've had a lovely time. I just need approximately three to five business days to recover from being charming.
And if I've already spent the entire week interacting with people at work? That battery might have arrived at the weekend on 12%. I've attended meetings, answered questions and maintained a socially acceptable facial expression for five consecutive days. Frankly, I deserve a medal.
9pm Is a Perfectly Respectable Home Time
There was a time when 9pm meant the night was only just getting started.
These days? Nine o'clock is an excellent time to be heading home.
You've had dinner, enjoyed a few drinks, caught up with everyone and hopefully avoided getting dragged into a second location. What more could anyone possibly want?
I'm not saying I won't stay out later. I'm saying that if I'm still out at 11pm, there had better be a very compelling reason. A wedding, perhaps. A national emergency. Someone announcing they're paying for everyone's drinks.
And no, "one more drink" is not a compelling reason.
Making Plans Is Fun. Having No Plans Is Also Fun.
I genuinely enjoy having things in the diary. A weekend away, a pub lunch, a day out somewhere lovely. Give me something to look forward to and I'll be checking the calendar like a child counting down to Christmas.
But there's a very particular kind of happiness that comes from looking at your weekend and realising you have absolutely nothing scheduled. No commitments, no obligations, nobody suggesting we "make a day of it" when the original plan was just lunch.
No alarms. No rushing around. No trying to work out whether you've got enough time to wash your hair before leaving the house.
Just two glorious days where you can decide what you fancy doing when you wake up.
And sometimes, that turns out to be plenty.
The Complicated Joy of Cancelled Plans
Let's be clear: if I'm really looking forward to something, I'm genuinely disappointed when it gets cancelled.
However.
If it's been a long week, the weather is miserable and I've already started mentally negotiating how early I can leave, a cancellation can feel suspiciously like winning the lottery.
Obviously, I'll respond appropriately. "Oh no, that's such a shame!"
Meanwhile, somewhere deep inside, a tiny version of me is setting off fireworks, popping champagne and declaring a national bank holiday. The plans have been cancelled. I have been released back into the wild. By which I mean my own house.
Does that make me a terrible person? Probably not. Am I going to pretend I've never felt that way? Absolutely not.
Autumn Activities, But Make Them Manageable
One of the best things about autumn is that there are genuinely so many lovely things to do.
Country walks, National Trust visits, cosy pubs, good food and spending time with your favourite people. I'm not interested in missing out on any of that just because I also happen to enjoy my own company.
The trick, I've discovered, is not trying to cram absolutely everything into one weekend.
A lovely Saturday out followed by a quieter Sunday? Ideal.
Three consecutive days of plans with no breathing room? That's when I start wondering whether I can legally declare myself unavailable. Is there a form? Do I need a doctor's note? Can I submit it online without speaking to anyone?
I'm an introvert, not a hermit. There's a difference.
The Quiet Bits Are Just as Good
As much as I love getting out and enjoying autumn, some of my favourite moments are the ones that don't involve a reservation, a ticket or a group chat trying to agree on a time.
Reading a good book. Cooking something that takes a little longer than usual. Having a bath without needing to be anywhere afterwards. Going for a walk simply because the weather is lovely.
Nothing particularly exciting, nothing worth documenting, and absolutely no pressure to turn it into an activity.
Not every spare hour needs filling, and not every weekend needs to come with photographic evidence.
Sometimes it's enough to just enjoy yourself.
Final Thoughts
Being an introvert doesn't mean disliking people, avoiding plans or spending your entire life indoors. It just means recognising that, for some of us, socialising takes a little more energy, even when we're having a brilliant time.
And autumn, with its mixture of days out, good food, beautiful scenery and quieter evenings, feels like the perfect season to embrace a bit of both.
So yes, I'll happily make plans, go out with friends and enjoy everything autumn has to offer.
I'll just also be checking what time we're planning to head home.
Nine o'clock sounds reasonable, doesn't it? And before anyone suggests going somewhere else afterwards, I've already taken my bra off mentally.
Molly
Post a Comment