We love a big, dramatic picture of freedom. Society often defines it as bold action, grand gestures, and living life at full volume.  Think skydiving, loud groups celebrating, care-free dancing, spontaneous road trips, or quitting your job to go "find yourself" in Bali. But for introverts like me, freedom actually looks and feels a little different. It's rarely about doing more; it's usually about doing less.

True freedom for some isn't in making more noise but embracing silence. It’s less about chasing every opportunity and more about allowing yourself the space to say no. What if the real question isn't, Am I free by society's standards? But Am I free by my own standards? For introverts, freedom isn't measured by how loudly we live—but by how authentically we exist. 

Acknowledging captivity, embracing freedom

Before embracing the wild, wonderful concept of freedom, I had to face a hard truth a while back—I was trapped. Not in a dramatic, locked-in-a-tower type of way (though that would make a great story), but emotionally shackled by outside opinions, self-doubt, and enough unresolved baggage to require its own cart.

For years, I tiptoed through life like an overcautious deer, carefully curating my words and actions to avoid embarrassment, disappointment, or—brace yourself—being perceived as weird. (Spoiler alert: I AM weird, and no carefully scripted small talk or strategic nodding can change that).

The real epiphany hit me like an unexpected Wi-Fi outage—it was sudden, disruptive, and forced me to contemplate what was next. So, I asked myself a simple but life-altering question: Who am I performing for? I mean, most people are far too busy untangling their own internal mess to be hyper-focused on mine.

So, little by little, I loosened my grip on the need for approval. And you know what? Life got so much better. I stopped measuring my worth against an imaginary scoreboard of social validation and no longer needed to overanalyze every conversation like a detective.

We live in a world that sees extroversion as the default setting. So when that’s just not you, real freedom isn't going to look or feel like most of the pictures you see out there. It's about permitting ourselves to exist as we are—awkward pauses, long silences, and spontaneous philosophical debates with ourselves included. For the introvert, it's realizing that our comfort matters as much as anyone else's and that choosing solitude over socializing isn't an offence against society (even if someone is offended by your choice).

Freedom isn't about being fearless; it's about not letting fear steer the boat; that realization, my friend, is a sweet victory.

Still, many don't really understand that an introvert's expression of liberation often looks like deliberate solitude and the carefully rationed social energy.

Expanding our expressions of freedom

In recent years, researchers like Susan Cain (author of Quiet) have shed light on the strengths and needs of introverts, sparking greater appreciation for and understanding of introverts. Still, many don't really understand that an introvert's expression of liberation often looks like deliberate solitude and the carefully rationed social energy. 

While others might perceive this as being socially or emotionally chained or repressed, we are not. Rather, we wisely choose our own peace over performative enthusiasm. And while others may assume we're missing out, we are not. We're just on a different wavelength, vibing in the quietest way possible. Truly, freedom for us isn't about wild adventures or packed social calendars – it's the sweet relief of cancelling plans and having zero obligations. 

The difference in how introverts and our friendly extroverts view freedom is similar to the difference between a bird soaring through the sky and a turtle tucking into its shell – both are experiencing freedom in their own perfectly satisfying way.

While our extroverted counterparts might equate freedom with a spontaneous road trip with friends, an introvert finds liberation in staying home, travelling solo or binge-watching our favourite show. The difference in how introverts and our friendly extroverts view freedom is similar to the difference between a bird soaring through the sky and a turtle tucking into its shell – both are experiencing freedom in their own perfectly satisfying way.

Saying “No” without a dissertation

“No.”
That's it. That's the sentence. There are no add-ons, footnotes, or PowerPoint presentations to explain our decision. Whether in French (Non), German (Nein) or Portuguese (Não), “No” is universally a complete sentence.

And yet, have you ever noticed that it's also one of the most controversial? You'd think the world was on its last rotation, the way some people react. Throughout my adult life, a simple “No” has often been met with hurt feelings, gasps, suspicious side-eyes, and the dreaded, "But whyyy?"

For an introvert, proficiency in saying “No” is an art form and one of the greatest acts of liberation.  It's freedom from the forced social obligations, from the guilt-laced "Come on, just for an hour!" pleas, and from the exhausting act of crafting an excuse that won't invite further negotiation.

Each “No” is a small act of freedom—a reminder that your time and energy matter.

The strategic “No” is one I have mastered with delicacy and diplomacy. You don't always want to drop it bluntly, especially when dealing with those close to you or with a particularly persistent extrovert. That's when creativity reigns supreme.

• The Soft Decline: "I appreciate the invite, but I'm going to sit this one out." (Gentle and friendly, but firm.)
• The Deflection: "Oh wow, sounds like fun! I'll let you know." (Translation: I will not let you know because I am not attending)
• The Honesty Bomb: "I'd rather stay home and stare at my ceiling than be in a crowded room." (Caution: Use only when you’re in safe company or you are feeling particularly sassy and bold.)

Each “No” is a small act of freedom—a reminder that your time and energy matter. So, the next time you're asked to do something you'd rather not do, try it. A simple, confident “No.” No guilt, no explanation, no backpedalling. The world will keep spinning, and you'll be just fine.

The liberating leap from the fear of missing out to the joy of staying in

Not participating might be one of the most underrated freedoms—choosing to sit something out without feeling like you're missing out. The reason? There's always a strange pressure in our culture to be doing something because supposedly staying home is a punishment no one told you about. For the introvert, it is a privilege. Home is a place where I don't have to fight for personal space, make small talk, or pretend to enjoy group activities. It's where I exist exactly as I am—no performance necessary.

It takes a certain level of confidence, or as I like to call it, introverted moxie, to be the proverbial odd one out. Introverts do not suffer from the fear of missing out; instead, we thrive on the joy of staying in. If we spend time worrying about the perceived repercussions of our actions or what other people are doing, we are never truly present in our lives.

Our best moments aren't dictated by trends, peer pressure, or societal expectations—they're dictated by what brings us joy.

There is freedom in realizing that we don't need to do what everyone else is doing or go where they are going. Our best moments aren't dictated by trends, peer pressure, or societal expectations—they're dictated by what brings us joy. Give us a couch, a book, a cozy blanket, and snacks, and we're living our best life.

The freedom of solo travel, because group trips test our patience

There's something wildly freeing about booking a solo flight and landing in another country without an itinerary, obligations, and the constant debate over where to eat.

Solo travel for the adventurous introvert — because we do exist — is perhaps one of the happiest places to be, no matter the time zone. It's waking up when you want, going where you feel like, and spending hours museum-hopping without someone asking, "Are we leaving yet?" It's realizing that you don't need anyone to validate your experiences—you can enjoy them alone.

And let's be honest: No group trip has ever ended without at least one argument about schedules, bathroom rotations or between the one person who wants to do everything and the one who wants to do nothing. Travelling solo means freedom from compromising on your wishlist, endless small talk, and, most importantly, freedom from being forced into navigating a jam-packed itinerary with activities in which you have no interest.

Freedom, at its core, is about choice. It isn't about living loudly—it's about living authentically.

Freedom looks different for everyone—and that's okay!

Freedom, at its core, is about choice. It isn't about living loudly—it's about living authentically. It's the power to choose what aligns with your soul, to exist in spaces that feel right, and to stop shape-shifting to fit expectations that weren't meant for you. True freedom isn't found in chasing titles, outside approval, or experiences that drain you—it's in embracing the life that feels like home.

For some, freedom might look like being the life of the party, meeting new people, and schedules filled to the brim. For introverts, freedom looks more like empty calendars, solo adventures, and declining invitations without guilt. For us, it isn't about breaking free but being free. 

So, if your version of freedom involves a quiet night in, a solo getaway, or simply uttering the complete sentence of “No” without offering an excuse—own it. Because the greatest freedom is the freedom to be unapologetically yourself.