I don’t like to travel. I never have, and I don’t see that ever changing.

That’s not to say I’m indifferent to the beauty of the world. I just don’t need to see it. I’m not a visual person, and while I can appreciate something for its beauty or grandeur, I’m rarely moved by it the way others are.

I’ve traveled quite a bit. It was interesting—but I’d still rather stay home.

I’ve also never had any desire to go to clubs, concerts, or parties. I can do it, but most of the time I endure it rather than enjoy it.

What I’ve noticed is this: I offer nothing but acceptance to people who feel the need to go out, explore, and do things. That sentiment is rarely returned.

Society treats that drive—the urge to go, to experience, to be out there—as the default. And if you don’t share it, it’s seen as odd. Like something’s missing.

I’m not offended by that. And at this point in my life, no one can guilt me into doing things I don’t want to do. I’ve paid those dues.

I just find it interesting that even as we question so many defaults—white, male, straight, able-bodied, Christian, right-handed, extroverted—there are also these quiet expectations we often don’t even notice, like the assumption that  a “normal” person wants to go out and see the world.