I can’t for the life of me talk to people

What else am I supposed to say?
I really can’t. Period.
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Okay, okay fine.

If I’m being frank, people who have hobbies other than internet usage are people that I seriously can’t relate to. I mean, I thought I could relate to them, but I guess I can’t.

When I got my first job, I had to get acquainted with my coworkers, and before this I’d never talked to anyone who wasn’t hooked with either gaming, anime or binge watching shows. (Even my parents love YouTube and Netflix like their second child.)

But they all talked about things like hanging out with friends, dating, going to the bar, going to band practice, taking walks by the river, going to concerts and I’m just like: “all my evenings are the same.”

When I go home, I put on my PJs, eat, then watch YouTube or K-dramas (then eat some more), and finally sleep. That’s a done deal day for me.

Once in a blue moon, I take photos or I write song lyrics, but that’s besides the point.

Turns out that not everyone has succumbed to the magnets of the internet and they actually do stuff outside of it. Not everyone is going to get sucked into the voracious vortex of the metaverse just yet.

The world is really bigger than I thought it was.

As you can imagine, having such a lack of hobbies could cause someone to feel inferior—which no surprise, that’s my specialty. In the past week alone, when I talked about my free time, comments I’ve gotten are: “well that’s not very impressive”, “do you want to change your lifestyle?” and “you should get a life”.

So of course, this additional layer of shame and embarrassment about my lack of a supposed “life” decreases my ability to socialize with others.

While another person is trying to talk to me, I’m focusing on other things except what they’re saying. I’m looking at their clothes and seeing how nicer they are to my own. I’m seeing how excited they are about that party and wishing that I could have as many friends as them. I’m hearing their hobbies and simultaneously creating insults about my own hobbies.

Here I am, roasting alive in the endless cyclical inferno of comparing myself over and over again to the person I’m talking to, and they don’t realize it at all.

My negative inner voice becomes so loud it tunes everything out and I can’t be present in the moment. When these thoughts devoid of self-love are replayed like a broken tape nonstop, I’ll constantly feel inferior to others and I’ll try and find unhealthy ways of compensating for what I believe are my “weaknesses”.

(These unhealthy ways I’m not comfortable talking about so I’ll just end it there.)

Consequently, when the conversation ends, I usually say next to nothing to this person because I now feel like shit about myself, and I heard only 1% of what they actually said.

However,

*sighs deeply*

I’m slowly learning that even if I’m not the most interesting person and my amount of social activities are significantly lower than my peers’—my worth is still equal to theirs.

I’m slowly realizing as I get older, that I am enough as I am.

Indeed, why can’t I just like what I like regardless of how it lines up with other people’s standards? Why can’t I defend my tiny batch of hobbies and be passionate about it too when talking to people?

Despite my loads of free time to chomp down a 20 episode K-drama in a week (each episode being ≈60 minutes long), the fact is that I like K-dramas and I don’t mind being alone. So if I like what I’m doing, that should be enough for me.

Yeah, most of what I do only entails sitting my ass on my couch and staring at the TV or my phone for a couple of hours, but it isn’t something I wanna get rid of anytime soon.

Also, my hobbies don’t make me less open to having new experiences—I recently went to my first bar and I found it somewhat entertaining, albeit awkward.

Anyways, I hope that slowly gaining some sense of self-worth will make me better at being present in conversations. When I talk to people, I don’t want to feel inferior to them, but feel equal to them. Plus, I want to be able to find the right words to say—words they reflect my true values, interests and identity—not words that promote insecurity, and create a fake identity.

In the future, I wish to defend myself, my interests and anyone else who spends most of their time alone (with such glorious fervour) because I love them regardless of how it lines up with my peers’ expectations.