The Hidden Dangers of Introvert-Introvert Relationships

Kyle’s avatar

“We’re so bad for each other,” my partner, an Assertive Adventurer (ISFP-A) personality type, often says. That’s because we’re both strongly Introverted and sometimes question how we influence each other’s social habits. This article isn’t purely a personal story, but since my partner and I are poster children for the most obvious hidden danger of Introvert-Introvert relationships, I’m using us as an example.

To prove that I’m not just going anecdotal on you (never go full anecdotal), here’s a relevant research stat: our “Social Activities” survey asks, “Is a fun social event just what you need after a long and exhausting week?” A solid 72% of Extraverted personalities proclaim “Yes!” and begin doing their hair, picking out clothes, and texting their friends. A mere 12% of beleaguered Introverts agree, wearily getting up from their gaming chairs to find their sneakers and shuffle off to wherever they’ve been invited.

But I have to wonder how many of those 12% of Introverted personalities who agree are single, because I suspect that many Introverted couples talk each other out of attending the kind of “fun” social event mentioned in the research question. (I added those quotation marks, because I suspect that an Extravert wrote that question. Who else would call going to a social event after an exhausting week “fun”? But I digress.)

For my partner and I, it happens like this: “Blank and blank have invited us to their blank,” she’ll say about whichever of her friends are doing whatever they’re doing. (My friends don’t invite us to do things because they’re awesome like that, but her friends are outgoing types who don’t know any better.) “Should we go?”

“Well, that sounds like a lot of fun,” I’ll lie in response. “Who will be there?” This isn’t me trying to avoid specific people but rather attempting to assess the intensity of the event. My partner will tell me what she knows, and in some cases, I’ll cheerfully go along with the plan, but other times I’ll use the “let me think about it” tactic. That gives me time to come up with some kind of counterpoint about the value of staying home (like not having to talk to people, go anywhere, etc.). If I really don’t want to go, I’ll just say so, but usually I like to find a logical reason to be unsocial, so that I don’t seem, you know, antisocial.

And it’s not just me. Check this out: the same survey asks, “Do you enjoy vibrant parties with lots of people?” While about 76% of Extraverts are all like, “Yeah, the more, the merrier,” about 13% of Introverted personalities grumble and grudgingly mutter, “I guess so.” But, seriously, the data is on my side – socializing can seem like highly questionable behavior to many Introverts when there are more appealing options available (as I try to point out to my partner when an invite stalks us down). It isn’t that being social isn’t rewarding – it is – it’s just that other priorities and pleasures often seem to exert greater pull on my mind. Like fixing the lawn mower, or mowing the lawn, or sitting in a lawn chair with a cold beer after the lawn’s been mowed and looking at the freshly mowed lawn. I’m a stereotype, I know.

However, the idea of personal time appealing more than social interaction isn’t exactly unheard of among Introverts. Consider this: our survey asks, “Does the time you spend by yourself often end up being more interesting and satisfying than the time you spend with other people?” About 80% of Introverts agree and crank up their lawn mowers (or gaming consoles, artist’s easels, or whatever), versus a mere 29% or so of Extraverts. For reference, the agreement rate of my personality type, the Turbulent Architect (INTJ-T), is something like 93%, so I’m really in that get-off-my-lawn demographic.

If it’s not already obvious, the main hidden danger of Introvert-Introvert relationships is reinforcing each other’s unsocial tendencies. Sure, I may be the one usually taking the side of “stay home,” but my partner doesn’t exactly take much convincing to avoid socializing most of the time. What’s wrong with that, you might ask (especially if you’re a fellow Introvert)? Well, it’s a question of balance. Any personality trait–driven behavior can be taken to unhealthy extremes, with resulting negative real-world consequences.

My partner and I love spending time together as well as by ourselves. But we also have some great friendships, socialize occasionally, and even host parties now and then. Perhaps we’ve struck a healthy balance that works for us, perhaps not. I suspect that there are risks and costs to how much we allow our Introversion to reign unchallenged, and I think those risks are true for most Introverted personalities. I can spot a few such downsides in my own life (and I’d like to hear your examples in the comments below).

Missing opportunities is a big downside. Minimal social circulation can mean that we miss out on all kinds of opportunities that we don’t even know about. Having a rich social life is akin to networking and can bring everything from joyful learning experiences to lucrative professional opportunities. Sharing in community comes with many rewards beyond just social affirmation and shared fun, as others learn of your value through social exposure.

There’s also the fact that social skills can stagnate or grow rusty over time and end up being kind of weak and creaky when we need them. Practice makes progress, and a broad range of social skills can develop continuously during social interaction, whether consciously or not. That includes not just being charming and engaging but also things like active listening, empathizing, and learning to interpret different people’s vocal and body-language cues. Those are useful, impactful skills that are unlikely to improve through disuse.

Losing connections is also a big risk. Like any living, blooming thing, social relationships require nurturing to stay alive. (I mean, sometimes it’s fantastic to let certain people slide out of your life, but we don’t tend to socialize with anyone we don’t like in the first place, so we’d like to keep those friends.) I can’t help but notice that I don’t maintain contact with friends as well as I should. I suspect that my friends notice, too, and might not understand just how capable I am of simultaneously appreciating and neglecting them. Sigh.

What Can Create Introverted Couples’ Social Isolation?

Anecdotally, I think one of the biggest reasons why my partner and I magnify each other’s social Introversion is that being together is quite fulfilling. We give each other so much of the essential validation that humans need from one another that it’s a little too easy to discount the social rewards that are available elsewhere. (Not completely, of course, as we do have our own friendships.) It’s nice that we have a strong mutual bond, but the abovementioned downsides (and others) are still a problem.

I don’t have any data that confirms shared happiness as a reason why Introverted couples might be less social, but we can’t be the only ones, right? I don’t think being in a bubble of isolation together – even a happy one – is ideal. It might happen for a while in a new relationship, but it doesn’t seem healthy or sustainable for an ongoing, committed partnership. And only about half of Introverted personalities agree that a couple should spend as much time together as possible, so many are with me on that.

I do have a lot of data that suggests another reason why Introverts might double down on their Introversion together: a lack of social confidence more than lack of social desire. On a scale of one to five, Introverted personality types rate their current sociability at about 2.27, but they rate their ideal level of sociability more like 3.62. They don’t necessarily want to be super sociable, but they’d like to be more sociable than they are. A main barrier is likely that about 66% of Introverts say their social confidence is low to very low, and only another 25% say it’s average. So there aren’t a lot of socially confident Introverts out there.

So, What’s the Solution?

I don’t know, maybe something like just try to be happy with who you are and do what you truly want to do? I’d be a stinking hypocrite if I said that strongly Introverted couples should “be more social,” so I’m going to keep it real for y’all: if not being very social works for you and your partner, that’s probably okay.

On the other hand, if you’re feeling too many negative consequences of your shared Introversion, like those I mentioned above, you might need to change your pattern. That likely starts with both of you being on the same page about your social goals and what approaches you can take (I’ll drop some helpful links below). It doesn’t have to be complicated – just accepting and making more invitations among your existing friends is a great way to be more social.

Let’s be honest: the average person engages in many social interactions out of necessity or obligation as much as desire. It’s part of being a member of any community. Every couple has to find what works best for them, and that almost certainly includes trying to boost each other’s social confidence and enthusiasm to embrace opportunities. The hidden dangers of Introvert-Introvert relationships are matched by the potential for great empathy and understanding as both partners enter experiences together with a similar perspective.

Further Reading