The Space Between Me and the World
Self-reflection is one of those experiences that makes you sit with yourself. Not the filtered version. Not the “public-facing” version. Just… you. The truth of who you are when nobody’s watching.
A lot of times, we’re easily guided into looking at others and their flaws. It’s safer that way—easier to critique than to confront. So we build these invisible walls to protect us from our mirror. But when it comes to relationships—whether romantic, platonic, or professional—the mirror always finds us.
And I’ll be the first to admit: I’ve struggled.
Not just in love, but in friendship. In business. In community. I’ve struggled because I am, by nature, a private person. Secluded. I love my space. I love silence. I can go hours, days—sometimes longer—without interaction and be completely content. I don’t need company to feel alive. I don’t crave presence to feel whole.
But this part of me? This deeply rooted need for solitude? It has strained many of my relationships. Most people need people. They thrive on energy exchange, on conversation, on closeness. They want to be seen, heard, held—often.
And then there’s me.
People struggle with my distance. With how hard it is to get close. Not because I’m trying to push anyone away, but because I’m constantly trying to maintain a balance of my energy, my space, my peace. And the truth is, most of the time, when I do let someone in, it disrupts that balance. It stirs chaos in my calm. Being around people for too long drains me—even when the energy is good—and I need time to decompress from even the lightest human contact.
It’s not that most people are toxic or harmful. It’s that their need to access my emotions, my vulnerability, my attention… depletes me. I’m selfish with my openness. Not in a cruel way, but in a way that protects my reserves. And I’m still figuring out whether that’s a good or bad thing.
If you asked 100 people, I’m sure 95 would say it’s unhealthy. But I have to ask—unhealthy for whom? For me? Or for those who don’t know how to live without constant social interaction?
We celebrate extroverts. The loud ones. The social butterflies. The ones who light up in a room full of people. And that’s fine—they should be celebrated. But introverts like me? We’re often misunderstood. We’re seen as distant, rude, emotionless, or hiding. And some days, I might be all those things—but more often, I’m just tired.
When I am around people, I’m fully present. Engaged. Energetic, even. But after that? You might not hear from me for a while. It’s not personal. It’s how I refuel.
This is why I’m selective with who I let into my life. I’ve learned that not everyone can handle my lifestyle—and they don’t have to. I don’t expect them to. But those who do? The ones who understand that my silence isn’t distance, but restoration? Those are the people I hold dear.
Maintaining friendships without losing myself has taken intentionality. And I’ve learned: if you’re honest from the beginning about how you operate, you allow others to choose. The ones who can handle your rhythm will stay. The ones who can’t, won’t. That’s not rejection—it’s just truth.
Relationships are a choice. Friendships are a choice. Nothing is owed. So when someone walks away, I let them. And when someone stays, I honor that.
But at the end of the day, I live to please myself. Because it’s me who has to sit with the consequences of my choices. And when I’m balanced and whole, I can show up better for the people I do let in.
Yes, no man is an island. We all need people. For business. For growth. For connection. But people can only walk with you so far. When it’s time to make hard decisions, they go home to their lives, and you’re left with yours. That’s not abandonment; that’s reality.
So I’ve learned to be okay with myself. To pray by myself. To push myself. To choose my direction after considering everyone else’s advice. Because at the end of the day, the voice I trust the most is the one inside me. And I need space to hear that voice.
Alone time isn’t loneliness. It’s clarity. It’s a recharge. It’s survival.
So, where do you fall in this?
Are you an extrovert or introvert?
Do people fill your cup—or drain it?
Do you need noise or crave quiet?
Whatever your answer, just make sure it’s yours. Know who you are. Know how you tick. And build a life that honors that.
-Velma
