It happens often beginning this time of year.

People start eyeing me like I’m an orphan desperately seeking adoption, a makeover just waiting for rescue, a lost soul in need of grounding.  It’s the holidays that puts others into this frame of mind for when the calendar draws near to Thanksgiving, I notice the shift in behavior of my friends and neighbors.

It usually starts with a question, innocent on its surface, but hiding a truckload of land mines around which I must eventually navigate.

“What are you doing for the holidays?” they ask in their well-meaning way.

Immediately, I freeze.  There really isn’t a good way to answer that.  If I say I prefer to stay with the dogs and write, it’s as if I’ve blasphemed in some way, and the person asking the question insists that I join their family for dinner.  Without offending them, I say I’ll think about it, having no intention whatsoever of subjecting myself to chaotic festivities with people I hardly know, if at all.

If I make up an excuse, it means I’m lying to them (even if it is a white lie on my part to spare their feelings and myself the hassle of trying to finagle my way out of any commitment I erroneously make), and those lies always come back to bite me in the butt.  Many people, even friends, don’t understand the psychology of the true introvert.

I’m one of those introverts who can “act” like an extrovert when necessary, but who is really masking a strong need to be left alone.  They don’t perceive my introvertedness, and therefore take offense when I beg off a social engagement or bow out of going to a concert.

I live a lot inside my head, and yes, I do on occasion need to get away from myself.  But I choose those times, not someone else.  But how does one do so without offending others who may not understand?

This season already I’ve had more than five persistent offers from well-meaning but perhaps misguided friends for holiday plans.  It’s a four-day weekend for me, and because I get to spend so little time just being at home with the pups and with myself, writing, lounging, whatever, I covet those long weekends.  I’ve never been one who “needs” another’s presence.  It used to drive my mother crazy.

“You’re going to be one lonely boy when you grow up,” she often admonished.  But the mistake there is that “alone” does not equal “lonely.”  I thrive on being alone.  Mostly because I am never truly alone.  There are stories zinging through my head that keep me company.  Or books.  Or movies.  Or dogs.

Being around humans exhausts me.  I prefer small, intimate groups rather than large, noisy gatherings.  In fact, a one-on-one is best, like a quiet lunch or dinner.  Tea in a garden somewhere.  Sitting on a mountain top gazing out across the Great Divide.

So, for this holiday season, I hereby post “The Introverts Bill of Rights.”

• Introverts reserve the inalienable right to refuse any and all invitations without repercussions or hurt feelings and with the universal understanding that we don’t mind being asked (not cajoled, mind you), and want others to continue asking, because there’s always a chance we’ll accept.
• Introverts have the right to claim a sacred space of their own for recharging, rebalancing or simply enjoying themselves in a way of their choosing.
• Introverts have the right to leave social events early or not show up at all, depending on how they’re feeling at the moment and without fear of losing a friend because of it.
• Introverts are not “anti-social.”  Instead, we thrive on quiet introspection and deep thought.  We do enjoy the occasional soiree or gathering, but those are the exception rather than the rule.
  
• Introverts are typically much more sensitive to the world around them than others.  It’s almost like a form of autism, except our minds don’t shut down with too much stimulation.  Rather, we retreat to our safe place to center ourselves.
  
• Introverts prefer a few good friends rather than a lot of acquaintances.
• The internet was designed by an introvert for introverts.  It’s the perfect medium for us. Don’t be offended if we don’t always return phone calls, but tend to prefer email.
  
• Introverts don’t need to be “cured” or brought out of our shells.  We like our shells.  They’re pretty.
  
• Introverts don’t enjoy being forced into commiting.  If we say, “Can I get back to you on that?” it’s not rejection, but rather a real attempt to determine whether if we decide to commit, we’ll actually show up. And if we’re forced to commit, we reserve the right to not show up without having to make up an excuse.
  
• Introverts reserve the right to “just say no” without angry backlash.
• “Meeting the right person” usually means another introvert, not a blind date with cousin Matthew or your sister Ava.  Stop trying to set us up.  We’re not socially retarded, but prefer social situations that are well suited to our temperament.  Non-introverts tend not to understand this.
• Introverts are not “stupid” just because we don’t always speak up.  We tend to be very intelligent and don’t always feel the need to prove it.  Some of the most brilliant minds of the past four centuries tended toward introversion, including Einstein.  Many creative types are introverts.
  
• Introverts are fiercely protective of their sacred space.  If you don’t want to get stung, don’t poke a stick into a hornet’s nest.