[life] don't enter my touchbubble

I was raised by two very private people, and they taught my sister and I that we had the right to a private space of our own which should be respected by others, and not to be invaded without our permission. This idea of privacy was as small as a secret box when I was five, and as large as my room and life and mind by the time I was 18. I am an intensely private person.

This, like any trait possessed by anyone, has its advantages and its drawbacks.

I am independent and self-reliant. I also do very poorly at sharing my emotional state with those that I love, which can lead to misunderstandings and long, drawn out conversations mostly filled with silence.

I am content with my own company, and all I really need to keep me happy is some quiet time and a good book. I also tend to blow people off for social engagements because it sounds like a lot of effort for little gain - what that usually means is that I alienate people who could, with that investment of time and effort, have become good friends of mine.

My sense of self-worth comes directly from my own judgement of how I'm doing at this business of being me - the opinions of others rarely affect how I feel about myself. I also have a great deal of difficulty letting people in where I am me, and vulnerable.

I excel at creative endeavours that involve me being alone - writing, sewing, etc. I also have agoraphobia.

The problem with valuing one's privacy is that you have to fear it being invaded. My brother-in-law has this club sort of thing going on where he and a bunch of friends pass around a statue of a knight by randomly showing up at one's house, having a party on the spur of the moment, and then leaving the knight behind, with the implied obligation to put a bunch of people together and descend on another member of the club. This sounds like the hugest pain in the ass to me. I can't imagine how this is fun. But that's who he is, and it's what he enjoys, and I can at least appreciate that he does think it's fun.

Sometimes I do feel that I am curling up in on myself like an ingrown hair, becoming more defensive, reactionary and isolationist with every year. Other times, I wonder what it is about entertaining crowds of people that's so damn great. I have a few friends that I truly, deeply trust. I have the best husband in the known universe. I am happy. Is it so terrible that I prefer my own company to that of strangers?

I guess there is the implied value judgement here - is my brother-in-law's life more adjusted or "normal" than mine is? Is he, by some social standard, healthier than I am? My recent panic attack on the bus would seem to argue in that direction. On the other hand, he has ulcers, panic of his own, crises about who he is and what he's doing with his life, etc etc. No one is perfect. That our society can more readily understand his choices and recognize his happiness does not invalidate my satisfaction with my lifestyle.

I figure that as long as I'm not having groceries delivered, and the ratio of cats to humans in my house remains 1:1 or lower, I'll be okay.