Some are comforted by the presence of others, by the buzz and energy of social interactions and sharing.
I am someone who prefers to turn inside. I draw energy from rest, quiet, and peaceful soothing activities.
For years I tried to deny this quieter part of myself. I tried to squash the introvert, and forced myself to go out and see people. I called myself an extrovert, I proclaimed that I loved to “go out”. I spent much time under roofs that were not my own, and I ended up exhausted.
My oasis is my living room. Sweatpants and fuzzy blanket hideouts. Flickering candles of vanilla and pumpkin. A stack of magazines, a pile of books, and a glass of wine. Creamy dark chocolate squares waiting to be bitten into. My cat and my husband nearby, ready to cuddle when called. A hot home-cooked meal, not necessarily healthy, and settling down for a marathon of one of our favorite shows. Late-night stumbling through the darkness, holding hands, tumbling down into freshly washed sheets. These simple pleasures nourish me, the most decadent fruits for my soul.