There’s a stereotype that introverts don’t like parties.
I like parties, as many of us do.
I have my limits but specifically, I enjoy the planning part—the organizing, the themes, the decor, the outfits. For a few years, I’ve been waiting until I live in a bigger space to consider throwing more parties of my own, but I just moved into an apartment with a layout that seems a little tighter than my last one (which, by all accounts from others, wasn’t tight at all).
Finally, I’ve asked myself why I like to wait. There’s plenty of space for people, balloons, laughter, floor confetti that I’ll find in every corner until the end of time. It’s a habit of thought that I’ve noticed in myself: feeling as if I can’t do things until everything is “together.” It never is. I want to wait until I’m “settled,” I say. I never am. Why do we try to wait until everything is perfect to do anything at all?