Oyster Day

… a day when the world is your oyster.

More than a decade ago, I coined the term Oyster Day—a day when the world is your oyster; one filled with activities and simple pleasures that bring you joy. A day to give yourself time and space to fill your own cup, in whatever way is most meaningful to you. 

Back then, it was a day for solo adventure. At that time of my life there was a lot of noise. In its place, I craved solitude. An Oyster Day gave me permission to recharge—alone. 

If you’re an introvert, you’re probably nodding your head in recognition right now. 

By “definition,” introverts gain energy from solitude; extroverts gain energy from social interactions. By “definition,” there are a variety of other polarizing traits (preferring to work independently versus part of a team, etc.) that force people to choose a box, when—as with most binary definitions—people usually fall somewhere along the spectrum. Few are at the extreme ends. 

Introverts gain energy from solitude; extroverts gain energy from social interactions.

When the pandemic began—before we collectively experienced (and defined) Zoom fatigue—a friend remarked how she was enjoying the pivot to working from home, but the hours of video calls drained her, unlike the hours of in-person meetings she was used to. 

[Cue light bulb glowing in my brain.] 

I hypothesized that my friend, an extrovert, was experiencing what introverts experience, well, all the time: my friend couldn’t gain energy from her virtual interactions, and was instead left feeling drained after hours-long conversations.

What was a depleted extrovert to do? Plan an Oyster Day, of course.

In the years since coining Oyster Day, I’ve learned to give myself more of those recharge moments—to not put self-fulfillment or solitude off for a long-awaited day—and instead, to fill my own cup more often. That sometimes looks like buying a bouquet of flowers for myself during a solo trip to the grocery store. Or, getting out for a local adventure (even when I’d rather be planning a faraway one). Or, simply finding some breathing room—and clearing some headspace—to write creatively. 

I’d offer similar advice to my extroverted friends. 

As an extrovert, you might fill your cup differently than how an introvert would, but the concept is the same: give yourself the time and resources you need to recharge. In an extrovert’s case, those resources might be human; in an introvert’s, the time might be solitary. 

Solitary recharge inspo: Top 10 Books I Read in 2020

Recharge with solitude—check. Practice self-care—check. Foster creativity—check.

If I can check the boxes on those needs, I’m a happier, more balanced person. And when I don’t? A low energy introvert is the equivalent to a hangry individual—best left alone (until blood sugar levels normalize).

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Supplemental reading: Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking by Susan Cain

This book reshaped how I thought about introversion, changed how I saw myself (yes, preferring to listen over speak is an asset), and explained how the Extrovert Ideal made the world undervalue introverts. The simple acknowledgement of the latter marked a turning point for me—and if you’re an introvert (or you want to understand one better), I think it will for you, too. 

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