Student Life
On being an introvert – Cherwell
As a university characterised by exemplary achievements, Oxford tends to cultivate an environment where you feel you must perform at your best in every aspect of life – and your social life is no exception. This pressure is more apparent than ever to the introvert. College activities like attending BOPs, or even meals in hall, can start to feel like checking off a box, one that proves you are meeting the minimum social criteria expected of an adequate student. Hearing other people in your accommodation getting ready for Indie Fridays while you’re watching Friday Night Dinner alone is enough to make anyone feel like they are somehow failing. And yet, despite this ever-present pressure to socialise, some of us find ourselves deliberately choosing the latter option most evenings.
Moving from home to a new city, meeting new people, and adjusting to new routines can be a jarring transition for any student, but above all the introvert. After hearing one of my (more extroverted) friends thrive during her university’s freshers’ week, I hoped that my experience would be just as positive. But, as someone who prefers spending most of my time alone, spending day after day talking to multiple strangers, the challenge of not instantly forgetting their names proved to be taxing. Although meeting as many people as possible is a perfectly reasonable way to settle in at university, I quickly tired of the repeated “what is your name?” and “what do you study?” cycle. In fact, I found myself oddly frustrated at this sensible series of initial questions. I could not understand how so many people seemed to be having the time of their lives with people they barely knew; this is where the introversion-extroversion distinction became so clearly apparent to me.
Most people acknowledge these terms in an overly simplified way, with the prevalent stereotypes being that extroverts are the ‘life of the party’ while introverts remain the ‘wallflowers’ (that is, if they attend the party at all). The reality is more complex than this: introverts don’t necessarily avoid social interaction but rather prefer the company of a smaller group in an environment that is not so overstimulating, resulting in a general reluctance to go into any potentially overwhelming situations. It stands to say that a bustling place like Oxford tends to favour the extrovert. I distinctly remember having a conversation where I was complaining to a friend about the concept of networking, to which she responded networking is “just talking to people”, not realising that is, in fact, the part I find offputting.
It’s not the talking that introverts hate, though. Rather, it’s the constantly being surrounded by people, the expectation that you join various societies and go on regular nights-out, while also getting to know everyone in your college. Suddenly, you go from being in the comfort of family members and friends to living in a building with close to 100 other students, all of whom you have never met. With everyone forming friendships so quickly, it can be hard not to feel that you are falling behind, and no one wants to be seen as boring. Despite the reputation of Oxford being a rigorously academic place, saying to people that I was looking forward to visiting the libraries more than meeting new people brought judgemental looks from some of my peers. This, in addition to the romanticisation of university as the ‘best years of your life’, when it is not an environment that is catered towards you, can leave an introvert feeling out of place.
Although university is widely expected to be the pinnacle of your social life, it is often described as a lonely time for a lot of students. An article recently published by The Guardian reported that two thirds of university students experience loneliness at university, with many attributing this to the set-up of their accommodation not encouraging social interactions. Perhaps this is unsurprising. With greater independence also comes the greater responsibility to seek out friendships in a more intentional manner, rather than relying on school settings to facilitate this. Yet Oxford’s collegiate structure and regular events seem to compensate for this transition – many people find their friendships from being part of the same college, a characteristic that most other universities lack. And despite being an introvert and feeling largely content alone, all humans require some social interaction. Oxford does feel like it promotes some performative sociability. Being part of a college community means you are constantly confronted with people who seem to have more friends, are part of more societies and go to more events than you, furthering the feeling that you should be doing more – a feeling that I expect is not unfamiliar for most Oxford students. However, the college communal set-up does have its benefits, as it does encourage connection and serves as a helpful reminder to introverts that there is value to having friends to share the highs and lows with.
Even with that in mind, it can feel natural to be envious of extroverts in such a setting. There feels like an invisible boundary between the people who thrive in Oxford’s social climate and those who find it overwhelming. Outside of university, the separation is rarely this distinct. Instead, we have to adapt to the situation we are presented with, which is why I, one of the most introverted people I know, am often assumed to be an extrovert by my peers. Yet Oxford is not exactly optimal for extroverts either: long hours studying alone in a library, with nothing but the sound of occasional coughing, are likely to be much more difficult for those who prefer to be surrounded by the chatter of their peers. And during life after Oxford, there will be situations in which being an introvert is beneficial. It is likely that the transition to living alone and being more independent after university will be much easier for the introvert than the extrovert. In my experience, there is some comfort in knowing that no matter where you go – to another university or another country (or both as I am intending to do) – you will be able to shape your experience as you please, without relying on the presence of others as an extrovert might do.
So, to any introverts, do not fret about Oxford being the best years of your life. Whilst it is important to embrace the ‘university experience’, you will have many years ahead of you to soak in your own company without the constant pressure to present a thriving social life. My advice would be this: do try to go on the occasional pub trip or night out (it’ll do you good, I promise), but also remember that an evening alone reading, crocheting, or simply rotting in bed, can be an evening well spent.