My House, My Rules — Until My Friend Showed Up and Made Me Go Outside

Let me start by saying this: I don’t leave my house. No, seriously. If you ever spot me at a social event, blinking like a vampire caught at brunch, please check for signs of coercion. My home is my sanctuary. It smells like peace, looks like calm, and has all the things I love — snacks, blankets, and no social obligations.

The only person who consistently exists in my space is my partner (when in town). That’s it. That’s the exclusive list. In the future, maybe Siobhan - if she decides to make the trip to where I live (she only likes London). I guard my home the way bouncers guard VIP sections. If you’re not my significant other, a very close friend or a plant I named after Beyoncé, you’re probably not getting in.

So when my childhood friend — let’s call him “The Social Butterfly” — decided to fly into town and stay in my actual home, I had to take a few deep, meditative breaths. We’ve been friends since primary school. He’s one of the very few people who’ve known me longer than my taste in overpriced Disney t-shirts. He’s family without the DNA.

We live in different countries now, but somehow manage to speak every morning before work. It’s become a little ritual — talking about nothing and everything before the chaos of the day kicks in. He knows me. But does he know know me? Like, “don’t-touch-my-blankets” know me?

Apparently, yes. Because he came, he stayed, and he immediately started making plans. Outside plans. With people. And I — me, the human hermit — went. More than once. Against all odds and my own instincts, I willingly stepped outside the four walls I’ve so carefully curated. And here’s the kicker: I actually had fun.

I met people, his friends. I said words. I even ordered something I couldn’t pronounce off a menu — on purpose. It was chaotic. It was uncharacteristic. It was… kind of fabulous.

Now, let’s be clear: I’m not about to become “that girl” who suddenly loves being out every weekend. Calm down. But I will admit, having my extroverted bestie around reminded me that the world isn’t all that bad. Sometimes, the right company makes it better than the comfiest throw blanket.

Let’s break down what I learned:

Lessons From Being Dragged Out by a Social Butterfly (And Surviving It):

1. Your Space is Sacred — But the Right People Are Welcome

My home is my fortress of solitude. But for the people who make your soul feel at home too? Maybe, just maybe, you let them in. Even if they leave shoes by the door and mess with your decorative cushions.

2. It’s Okay to Be a Hermit With WiFi

Loving your own company doesn’t make you weird. It makes you peaceful, introspective, and excellent at cancelling plans with polite excuses.

3. But It’s Also Okay to Be Social Every Now and Then

Balance, darling. You can love your own space and still say yes to spontaneous outings. You can be introverted and still wear lip gloss outside. Life isn’t binary — and neither are you.

4. Comfort Zones Are for Recharging, Not Living

I adore my comfort zone. But even I’ll admit, sometimes the best moments happen when you tiptoe (or get dragged) out of it.

5. A True Friend Pushes You, Then Lets You Nap After

My friend knew what I needed before I did — and he didn’t just push me out of the house, he reminded me that joy can live outside too. Then he let me recover in silence afterward. Iconic.

In conclusion, I’m glad he visited. He reminded me I’m not made of stone and sarcasm. Sometimes, I’m made of sunshine and spontaneous laughter too.

Just don’t expect me to start RSVPing to things. Catch me where I belong: in my robe, under a blanket, texting  from the same spot on the couch I haven’t moved from in days.