You refer to yourself as an introvert and you seem to assume this means your desire to throw or attend parties is somehow false. When you imagined your boyfriend’s judgement, I was reminded of the Jungian theory that everyone in our dreams is just a version of ourselves: Do you really think he would respond that way, or is he just a stand in for your own inner critic? Either way, I think this is a limiting way to see yourself.

I’ve spoken before about my wariness of introversion as a social litmus test; I think it’s become an over-generalized term that tries to capture too many different social phenomena, like social anxiety, neuroticism, or even depression, which shouldn’t really be regarded as inherent, immutable traits. You may not agree—I trust you understand your own nature—but I don’t want a label to hold you back from doing something you are explicitly saying you want to do. Labels are only as useful as they are liberating.

as you become closer, instead of falling into the trap of always getting dinner (still great), I recommend activities that make you feel like a team: running errands, helping with a project, trying something new, etc. I love my friend Gyan’s advice to always help your friends move, or do other unpleasant things, because difficult experiences are more bonding than easy ones (think of how you made friends as a kid). It may seem easier to just get coffee, a drink, or a meal, but in repetition those things lack texture. You only see one side of a person.

To see something funny on the internet, immediately think of a friend who would love it, and then send it to said person is one of the nicest little things we have going in this troubling world. It’s beautiful to be on either end of that interaction. To send is to know that you’re brightening someone’s day. To receive is to know that someone out there is thinking of you, anticipating your smile.

“You don't say ‘Oh yeah, that meme is old’. You say "Oh that's a CLASSIC.’"

classics scholar Craig Williams writes that Romans didn’t use terms like “just friends” or “more than friends” to refer to spouses because “the implicit devaluation of friendly as opposed to romantic or married love would have struck most Romans as perverse.” At that time, he asks, “what could be more than friendship?”

People get too caught up in finding a perfect person, and don't understand that their partner is fluid and ever-changing. Love is a choice. If someone asks you why you're with your current partner, the answer should always be "because I chose to be." If that choice is dependent on your partner remaining fixed in place, or dependent on a fantasy version of them you have in your head, then you have fantasy love. Love is not desire or admiration, it's acceptance. It's saying "I love the person you are, whoever that may be today."

People are not Pokemon to be worn down slowly over time until you eventually get a chance to capture them. If you want to ask someone out, just do it.

Each person I've been with wants a different set of things from the relationship smorgasbord, but most sort of assume that everyone else wants the exact same slice. So get specific. Ask for what you want and be clear about what they want. If that changes, talk about it.

Sometimes when you're around someone, you may morph into some version of yourself that you don't like. I used to believe this was a problem with me and the other person: unfixable, requiring a split. But this is something you can cultivate too, if you're aware of it. You fix it by noticing which habits cause you to be that way. If you express it, your partner is your teammate in getting you back to the person you want to be.

People aren't really themselves when they're going through strong emotions and really just need support. Love is saying "yes, I choose you, even now."