Why I'm Not Coming Out of My Shell

People are always telling me I need to come out of my shell.

I say, I’ve been in here for over 40 years, and I think I’m comfy.

I don’t see anyone trying to force an M&M out of its shell. After all, that’s where their magic is. The pretty colors, their seasonal flair, that little white “m”… What would they even be without their shell? Little chocolate balls.
(hee-hee chocolate balls)
Nothing special. Dollar store fodder.

Nonsense.

Or turtles. No sane person is forcing them out of their shell. The Ninja Turtles wouldn’t even have a part of their theme song without their half-shell. I suppose they’d still be heroes, but they’d need to change the words.
And I am fairly certain their shells saved them in many problematic episodes where an entirely different lesson would have landed a lot harder on children’s little watching hearts without those shells.

But for some reason, my shell is downright offensive to people.
It requires “coming out of.”

I don’t think people understand what they’re asking.

If they knew the insanity that reigns in here?
I expect they’d want me to put it straight back on. It’s like Hermione Granger’s bag in here — expanse, interesting, creative… It’s full of tons of love, deep thoughts (many the kind I shouldn’t say out loud), half-eaten snacks, and a lot of “stay out.” Do you even understand the chaos that would ensue without it? Thing One and Thing Two have nothing on the crazy that would be unleashed were I pried from this shell.

I’m not certain why introversion is such a situation for people.
I find extroversion to be downright exhausting.
Yes, I do mean extroverted people. They wear me out.
Get in a shell! It’ll be much quieter around here.

I understand that extroverted people allegedly need people to “recharge,” as opposed to introverts- who need to be ALONE. And don’t come here arguing with me about the validity of such titles. I can assure you, I am 99% introverted. I took a test.

But extroverts, please, find other extroverts to charge your battery.

Do I look like a Type C?
No, sir. I’m a Type L — as in Leave me alone (just stop doggin’ me around).

I like it in here.
This is where my art is born.
Where my sanity exhales.
Where my cat and I can talk shit about people and I don’t get in trouble.
I have a whole world in here where I never get bored.

I just don’t need anything outside of here.

This bad boy of a shell came fully-loaded like a fancy SUV — spacious luxury heated seating, multimedia, lots of sensors and mirrors, a tiny refrigerator, you name it- it’s in here…
Getting jealous?

So if you need me (please don’t)…
I’ll be in here.
I like it here.

Respect the shell.

Introverts, report in — what’s in your Hermione Granger bag of a shell?
Extroverts, it’s okay. We still love you. From over here.