HOLLY WAINWRIGHT: 'Not quite an introvert, not quite an extrovert? There's a name for that.'

This article originally appeared on Holly Wainwright's Substack, Holly Out Loud. Sign up here.

At parties, you might find her hiding in the toilet.

But at a dinner with a couple of close mates, you'll probably find her refilling glasses and gabbing until close.

She probably won't join your Book Club, but would you like to go for a walk, just the two of you?

No, she doesn't want to do team exercise, but she loves a busy gym class where she won't know a soul.

She likely won't publicly sign that petition you sent her, but she'll read about it, and maybe cast her support in a private, quieter way.

Who is this stand-offish, precious person? Well, it's me. And maybe it's you.

Because only this week, making Mamamia Out Loud, I learned that there are more different kinds of people than introverts and extroverts.

Watch: Jessie, Holly and Em discuss 'otroverts' on Mamamia Out Loud. Post continues below.

Yes, I'm being facetious, of course there are. Those Personality Type labels have always existed on a spectrum, and are only questionably helpful. But in an era where Introvert Pride was the coolest flag to be waving until a post-Covid boom of frenzied socialising encouraged us to cancel fewer plans, the whole 'in vs ex' thing has become part of the culture.

But that left much unexplained to those hovering somewhere in the middle.

Enter, Otroversion.

Image: Supplied.

Yup.

It's a term coined by a New York Psychiatrist called Dr Rami Kaminski. After 40 years of practice, and seeing the same 'lonely in a crowd' pattern in a portion of his child and adult clients, in 2023, he founded The Otherness Institute, and coined the term Otrovert.

An Otrovert is an outsider. (The "otro" is Spanish for other.)

Now, let's not get dramatic about this. There are all kinds of true outsiders, shunned from the mainstream because they do not fit whatever the accepted norm of race, ability, sexuality may be. Otroversion isn't that. In its simplest form, at least, being an otrovert is about feeling like you don't belong, even when you absolutely do.

Kaminski, writing in The Guardian, recounted this statement by one of his patients, about being an otrovert at a social gathering:"I just feel weird," he said, "like I'm not part of it, which is odd as these are all my friends. I know they like me and are happy I'm there, but I still don't feel connected. I only feel lonely or bored when I'm with many people, and not when I'm with one or two close friends or when I'm alone."

This is me, hiding from the friendly horde in the toilet. And if this is you, or someone you love, read on, friends.

Kaminski wrote about other signs:

When [otroverts] have to attend large gatherings, they are the figure standing off to the side, deep in conversation with another person, rather than 'working the room'.

They despise playing team sports.

They would rather do work assignments individually than in a group.

They would always prefer to have dinner with a friend one-on-one rather than attend a dinner party.

They find the shared traditions or rituals of communal life — office parties, graduation ceremonies, even religious holidays — difficult and even baffling.

And, elsewhere:

They are not interested in what 'everyone' is doing or talking about.

They are allergic to small talk.

They can be referred to as 'meek rebels' because they don't want to fit in, but they don't like confrontation, either.

They connect deeply with a few people, rather than having a large circle.

And crucially, they are not joiners. They are curious and interested, but they do not feel a need to be a part of things.

Otroverts do like people, though.

Kaminski writes:

Unlike introverts, most of whom would be completely drained from hours spent in a quiet corner of a pub talking with their closest friend, otroverts tend to gain energy from these kinds of deep conversations.

Huh.

Tick, tick, tick. (Please, invite me to the pub and let's D&M for an hour).

So I took the test.

Things get a little more serious over at The Otherness Institute, where Kaminski has built a world for Otroverts to feel Other (not together, though, of course) and created a questionnaire to test your level of otroversion.

The Otherness Institute is a little grandiose for me. I might be an Otro, but I am still from Manchester, after all.

Listen: Emily Vernem, Jessie Stephens & Holly Wainwright discuss 'otroverts' on Mamamia Out Loud.

Kaminski posits that otroverts are the great independent thinkers, incapable of following the crowd. And I'm like, steady on, sir, I very much enjoy Ted Lasso and found The Barbie Movie emotionally satisfying. I think All Too Well (Taylor's Version) is a fine, fine power ballad, and am wild about hot chips with salt. I am, as I am often told, pretty Basic in my tastes, and I have a suspicion that 'Basic' is not on the list. My otherness has its limits.

I also certainly do not identify with some of the intensely individualistic traits that 'Otros' possess, like 'Inability To Respect Any Mass Movement'. Come on now, I'm not Elon.

I love a shared passion or rousing cause, but it is true that I am wary of being conscripted into any movement that will require me to pledge allegiance to an entire doctrine. And it's also true that, as soon as my football team establishes a comfortable lead, I back away in itchy discomfort from the gloating masses.

And when I read 'Intense Need For Independence', 'Disinterest with procedure and group process' and 'Aversion To Confrontation'. My tick-tick-ticks started up again.

Unsurprisingly, at 206 out of 280, I middled the test.

An Other, then, but only just. Basic, through and through.

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