10/05/2026
Musings:
Today, I’d like to talk about being an introvert in a social hobby group.
I am an introvert. Well, if I’m being honest with myself, I’m an ambivert with introvert tendencies. I have had a number of things happen in my life that have exacerbated my introversion (which is a whole separate topic entirely). I’ve become a lot more outgoing since joining the SCA, and in more recent years, working in public education, but I spent a good portion of my life feeling like I existed on the periphery. I would never just show up somewhere without being invited, and being the person to reach out to others was a little scary (for reasons) and difficult.
It can be incredibly easy to feel isolated within a larger group such as the SCA. For those of us that find putting themselves out there a little daunting, it can be intimidating to try to find your place in an established group.
A number of years ago, my husband and I had four kids ranging in age from 3 to 11. Money was tight a lot of the time, and he was very active in the arts & sciences community. Honestly, I was too, but a lot of what I did could be done at home between events (embroidery and scribal arts), and Wulfstan’s art form is performance, which really relied on doing something at events in front of people. So for about five years, he went to a lot of events without me while I stayed at home looking after our kids. It was how I could best support his journey. A good number of those events were in the US, so that meant that he was meeting a lot of people that just didn’t event up here in Canada. For my part, I never stopped creating, but that is a conversation for another day.
When the kids got a little older and our finances got a little more solid, we felt like we could both go to events, either with the kids, or entrusting them to their grandparents’ care. So I started eventing more widely again. But it was hard for me. Through no fault of my husband’s, he had cultivated friendships with a number of gentles over the previous five years, and he would easily get into lively conversations with them and forget that I had no idea who they were, and forget to introduce me. I very much felt like a nameless appendage. It was rare for one of these gentles to engage me in conversation, and I felt like an intruder and therefore didn’t initiate conversations as a result. It’s amazing how lonely a person can feel in a room full of people.
I remember attending Collegium 2016; it was my first time attending one, and I spent hours attending classes. I love learning about my favourite aspects of history, and discovering new things to get excited about - I was in my element! But when the classes were over, court was done, and it had moved onto the open, social part of the evening, I felt quite alone. Wulfstan was in his element - deep in conversation with other bards and academic-minded people. I had been standing with him while they talked; other than a couple greetings and one or two polite exchanges, I was not part of the conversation. I am guessing it’s because they didn’t know me, and it’s not reasonable for me to expect someone to go out of their way to make one person comfortable. I didn’t want to pull Wulfstan away from his friends - I very much realized that these were *his* friends - and I didn’t see any of the few people I did know. So I left the clutch of people and sat down on a sofa in the lobby with my knitting, alone. Now, I realize that the SCA is populated to a large extent with socially awkward, neurodivergent individuals (myself included), who may not clock when a person needs to be taken under wing or specifically and intentionally included. It’s not their job. That’s not what I’m saying, and I do not share this as a criticism of how the SCA works. But what it did do was throw into sharp relief how different the pace was on the paths that Wulfstan and I were traveling. He was so much further along on his path, and his experience of us eventing together was usually in branches closer to home where I knew a lot more people, so he didn’t see that I wasn’t beside him anymore, literally and figuratively.
I was actually on the verge of tears when my friend Malyss plopped down on the couch next to me with a cheerful, “Hey, fam!” I can’t remember if a tear escaped or not at that point, but they could see that I was struggling, and they stayed with me, asking me about my knitting, and engaging me in conversation. Eventually, my husband came over and sat with us, as did a couple of other friends. The feeling of isolation dissipated, and we went on with our evening. But I have to say that the feeling of isolation is the memory that lingers from that event. I couldn’t tell you what classes I attended except one (experimental archaeology with the glorious Viscountess Nadezhda).
I don’t think for a second that I am unique here. I know that others have felt like this.
So why am I telling you all of this?
At first, I didn’t know where this particular musing was going. I did what I always do, and just started writing. Most of the time, the point is revealed in the process, and this time is no exception.
So here is what has settled on my heart: knowing that our hobby attracts many who are neurodivergent and/or introverted, what are we, the established players, doing to foster relationship with these gentles, and work to not only bring new players under wing, but also come alongside the introverts among us so as to help them feel valued and included, and that they are an integral part of the fabric of the SCA?
For my part, I took the early advice, “Everyone is a Chatelaine” to heart. I’ve made a point throughout my years in Society to seek new faces or quiet folks out and build relationship with them, work to make them feel at ease and comfortable in our group, and help them find their footing on their own path. I have formed so many rewarding friendships as a result. I would like to encourage each person that reads this (very long) essay to make a point of seeking out and speaking to someone they either don’t know, or don’t know as well as they would like at the next practice or event they attend, and begin building that relationship with another person. Host an “introvert table” at an event, where folks can just sit and do their own thing, or engage with a smaller group of like-minded folks in a lower pressure setting. Offer to meet someone for coffee for some one on one time. Post to your local branch discussion group and offer to meet up with a new person to answer questions about the SCA, or even your favourite topic. Take the time to ask someone else what they’re passionate about, or what they want to learn, or their favourite siege weapon. You get the idea.
And I would like to take this opportunity to publicly thank gentles like Lizzi Klassen (Malyss), Morgaine, Kevin Gougelet (Caemgen), and Rauthulfr for doing exactly that for me. I treasure your friendship and I always look forward to seeing you whenever I am able.
