Sometimes you want to be alone. You crave it, even. Your best ideas arrive in the shower, your heart resets in quiet coffee shops, and your social battery flashes red after two hours at the queer book club.
But other times, the silence lingers too long. The DMs stay empty. The texts go unread. And you wonder—am I alone because I want to be, or because I don’t know how not to be?
For introverted LGBTQ+ folks, the line between solitude and loneliness can blur quickly. Here's how to navigate those moments with honesty, intention, and self-compassion.
Solitude is chosen. Loneliness is felt. You can be surrounded by people and still feel invisible. Or you can spend a weekend alone and feel full.
Ask yourself:
Naming it helps tame it.
It’s not always just introversion. Sometimes:
You’re not “too much” or “too sensitive.” You’re navigating a complex world. That’s valid.
You don’t need to “get out more.” You need to connect smarter:
Make solitude active and nourishing:
Loneliness feels worse when your time feels empty. Fill it with you.
One real friend is enough. Two is a miracle.
Try:
Trust takes time, but it starts with consistency and softness.
Loneliness isn’t weakness. It’s part of being human.
If a friend said, “I feel left out,” you wouldn’t tell them to “just go out more” or “stop being weird.”
You’d say, “That makes sense. I see you. I’m here.”
Say that to yourself, too.
Being introverted and LGBTQ+ can feel like you're quietly orbiting around community instead of living in the center of it. But your orbit matters. Your quiet matters. And your presence—online, offline, or in-between—is enough.
You’re not too much. You’re not too invisible. You’re just in a quiet season. And seasons change.