Holding a microphone, feeling the familiar surge of adrenaline and a touch of nervousness, I prepare to host an event. The gaze of hundreds doesn't faze me; engaging with a crowd is a role I comfortably step into. Yet, something feels fundamentally out of place.
The Social Dichotomy of an Otrovert
My personality has two distinct facets: the social butterfly who enjoys interaction, and the quieter individual who thrives on solitude and independent work. If I'm honest, only the latter feels authentically like the real me. Playing the part of an extrovert is a skill, not a natural state. Beneath the surface, I'm counting down the moments until I can return home, sit in silence, and truly relish being alone.
In bustling environments, mingling and moving between conversations, I frequently find myself zoning out, overwhelmed by the sheer chaos. I'm physically present but mentally detached, an observer looking in, never fully immersed. This left me feeling I never belonged entirely to the extrovert or introvert camps, and the concept of an ambivert, adept at switching between the two, didn't resonate either.
Discovering the 'Otrovert'
That's why I was thrilled to discover another personality type: the otrovert. This term was coined by psychiatrist Dr Rami Kaminski in his 2025 book, 'The Gift of Not Belonging'. An otrovert is defined as an observer, not a natural-born joiner. They can function in social settings but often feel alienated or disconnected within them, finding genuine fulfilment in one-on-one relationships and individual pursuits instead.
This described me perfectly. Reading Dr Kaminski's work, I deeply related to the strange dichotomy of being a social creature who isn't entirely comfortable in social situations. It's a feeling of being 'outside' – from group dynamics to certain social norms. It's not that socialising is draining, as it can be for introverts, nor is it something I always relish endlessly.
Reflecting on my life, I realised this pattern has always been there. As a student, I played team sports and enjoyed the social nights out. Into adulthood, I've hosted countless gatherings, from dinners to large garden parties. Yet, in the heart of these events, I'd consistently feel slightly out of place. I'd enjoy them, certainly, but never feel fully part of the crowd. Instead of joining a large, boisterous group, I'd naturally gravitate towards a smaller circle or a single person for a proper, deep conversation.
Embracing the Otrovert Identity
Dr Kaminski's description of key otrovert characteristics, such as being self-sufficient, autonomous, and preferring solo activities, struck a chord. I realised I actively choose solo pursuits. I opt for running and strength training over group fitness classes. I feel far more at ease competing in bodybuilding competitions on stage in front of hundreds than I ever did playing as part of a team on a court.
This preference extends to my career. Nine years ago, I left an office job to become a freelance journalist, and I've never missed the water cooler chats or team meetings. According to Kaminski, otroverts are also unfazed by social trends and feel little need to conform. This resonated, explaining why I'm one of the few among my friends who chose not to have children and opted for a small, casual wedding over a large formal one.
This personality type is often linked to becoming a freethinker – someone independent, imaginative, and creatively flourishing. This fits my experience; as a child, I was musical and artistic, and as an adult, I love creative writing and producing visual content for both work and personal projects.
Since learning about otroverts, I've shared this discovery with others. Being able to explain this concept has helped me clarify that my occasional distance or reluctance for large group activities isn't personal; it's simply who I am. While some don't understand, or are surprised given my outwardly extroverted demeanour, my closer friends see it clearly. They witness me luxuriating in quiet nights alone, perfectly content in my own space.
The irony of finally fitting into a personality type defined by its difficulty in fitting in is not lost on me. But it doesn't matter. After a lifetime of feeling caught between two worlds, I finally understand my place. I can now embrace both sides of my personality, experiencing them in my own unique way, with the peace of mind that there is absolutely nothing wrong with that.