I grew up an introverted child. We moved around quite a lot during my childhood. I sometimes went to 3 different schools in each school year. That made it difficult to make friends, fit in, or learn to adapt. It became normal to withdraw and try not to be conspicuous. I remember I sucked my thumb as a child and continued to use that for security until I was about 12 years old. Visiting a distant cousin and having to share a room, made me quit abuptly. I feel I substituted food as my new coping mechanism and security blanket.
When I grew up, I was still an introvert and never felt like I was normal. I was always the wallflower. Home became my sanctuary. It was the one place I could go and feel I could let down my guard and be myself. I could relax and not worry about being judged for what I was or what I had not done according to the worlds idea of normal. As a result, my first instinct is always to be a hermit, to stick close to home. It is where I am most comfortable. Talking to strangers, even neighbors would be opening up, and letting someone in. That has to be something I really want to do and it has to be my idea. Which means, I am a bad neighbor. I might smile and wave, but we are not social people and stick to family and have no social friends. Writing this down, it sounds pretty pitiful, but at 61, I'm not sure we can be any different. I interact with co-workers, but have never had a social life. We have each other. We have family. And so far, that has been enough.