As we near the end of another academic year, it’s only natural to find ourselves reflecting on our experience (from this year alone or, for many, the entirety of our degree) and whether it is shaping up or has proved to be the “best three years of your life” we were all told, at some point before starting, it would be.

A key angle for assessing whether this is the case, is the extent to which our experience at university has shaped our adult identities and been ‘the making of’ us, given the emphasis on personal as well as intellectual development.

For many, this development is seen to entail “coming out of your shell” – a ghastly phrase already loaded with stigma and prejudice towards those who do not fit the ideal of extroversion that generated it.

For introverted students like myself, university can be tough.

With the spotlight nearly always on the stereotypical, extroverted activities of clubbing, drinking, going out with lots of friends and the like, finding and being comfortable with ourselves can be a daunting and lonely experience, and it takes time.

Introversion and quietness are incredibly misunderstood, especially in a society where only those who scream are heard and competition to stand out has become so fierce that to not participate in this fast-paced, albeit toxic, dynamic is to be boring.

Yet, it is people who have slipped under the radar who have enriched the world with contributions ranging from the theory of evolution to Google to Peter Pan and Harry Potter.

Charles Darwin, J.M. Barrie, Larry Page and J.K. Rowling are indeed among the world’s most famous introverts.

According to Susan Cain, the writer of Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking, “introversion – along with its cousins sensitivity, seriousness, and shyness – is now a second-class personality trait, somewhere between a disappointment and a pathology.”

It is very common for an introvert to experience pressure, and sometimes be told directly, to “speak up”, “get out more” and “come out of your shell” to cure themselves.

Yet, as far as the (un)fairness of (not) meeting halfway goes, there is little mention of the possibility for an extrovert to “tone it down” or, to deal it in the blunt manner that introverts often receive such ‘advice’, “shut up”.

The extroversion-fuelled expectations around what students should do and be like can feel oppressive for introverted students trying to make friends, or simply just be themselves.

This realisation as a fresher, combined with my more limited compatibility with classic student life as a commuter student, brought me back down to earth with a bump.

But now, as my time at uni draws to a close, I can confidently and gratefully reflect on my handful of strong, meaningful friendships – with mainly introverts, but a few extroverts too – that have emerged from my university experience and stood the test of time so far (even just between my first year and the end of my Master’s this year).

There have been plenty of fleeting and on-and-off acquaintanceships in the mix too, which I am also grateful for because they have all helped me work out what kind of person I want to be and what kind of person I don’t want to be.

My college pastoral advisor was right about me finding my tribe at university, just as she was about the power of being alone and being my authentic, quiet self as opposed to being false for people I knew weren’t my sort of people, especially if it was just for the sake of company.

That’s not to say I’ve never challenged myself to try new things and step outside my comfort zone socially, but that it has been on my own terms rather than to please others and fit into the extrovert ideal.

The ‘making of’ myself at university has entailed more of a declutter than a steady accumulation or layering, though it has been no less enriching.

I haven’t gained my voice; I’ve freed the voice I’ve had all along by gradually letting go of the louder, oppressive voice that has always cared too much about what other people in our extrovert-centred society think of me.

And it’s subtle but sweet stories like that of Mary Bennet in The Other Bennet Sister, Janice Hadlow’s fascinating take on Austen’s Pride and Prejudice (and recently adapted into a very popular BBC series), that give me hope that more people might be starting to recognise that introversion is not a “second-class” path through life but an equally rich, vibrant and fulfilling one, because of its differences, to that of extroversion.

Some students may be louder and some quieter but, if we’ve done something right for ourselves, we all still graduate as swans in the end.

Image credit: Hannah Jones