“I COULD PARTY NON-STOP with complete strangers in Goa every night for the rest of my life because raves are life.”
Does that phrase fit you?
No? How about this one:
“I would love to be alone in an isolated cabin in the middle of the Canadian Wilderness for the next forty years, or so.”
If that one doesn’t fit you either, chances are, you’re an ambivert. Welcome to the club — it’s big.
Despite it seeming like something a millennial just cooked up to describe another form of bigotry, ambiversion is a term that has been around for some time. Coined in 1947 by German-born psychologist, Hans Eysenck, an “ambivert” includes those who exhibit qualities of both extroversion and introversion.
It’s the less rigid sliding-scale version of its more popular siblings: The Loud One and the Quiet One. You’re the switch-hitter of the group and you like to travel.
Rewarding as it is, traveling alone can be hard for you. It means breaking out of your perfectly comfortable shell in order to experience the culture and connect with other people. You know this, so you do it anyway.
You like to spend time with people, but the thought of getting on a bus with 50 loud tourists and an itinerary that schedules in “Photo-Op” makes you want to throw yourself in front of a songthaew.
There’s a talker? You’re a listener.
But you sometimes envy those who always say what they mean.
Sometimes so much so that by the time you actually say something it can come out sounding forced and mis-timed. Probably followed by a nervous chuckle.
But it’s draining and you much prefer real, meaningful conversations with friends.
Because after a few brief exchanges with the local, all the conversation neither of you know has been exhausted and the rest of the trip will be spent in mutual isolation making sure you don’t fall off your bunk. Not so, with, say, Australians. Not so.
Because, you’re a human. And humans are all over the map.