I enjoy being alone. Outside of time with my partner and the occasional interaction with a friend or family member, I am always alone, in my own thoughts and quiet. I live alone and take in the silence while I work on the blog or do my homework. I read The New Yorker or write out my intentions for the day while taking the train to school. I almost always have headphones in when I am walking down the street, and am usually cooking and listening to podcasts at home. I am an introvert towards anyone who isn’t close to me.


I wasn’t always this way. As a high schooler, I was outgoing and impulsive. I was loud, upfront, and had no boundaries with others. I went out with friends more. I never felt reserved and needed much less quiet time than I do now. Though I blame much of my evolution of self on aging, I also know that my rape experience had a huge impact on who I am as a person. I went into the hardest, most traumatizing event of my life a colorful and rambunctious human being, and came out the other side, though cleansed of depression and negativity, a monochromatic and quiet individual. I have accepted myself for who I have become and have no issues with not being the person I once was, as it is all part of the process of adulthood, but I can’t help but feel nostalgic for the days when I felt inclined to be surrounded by people and was always colorful. Literally: I had such a wide array of colors in my closet in high school, if you can believe it. It represented who I was at the time, and I never look back at old outfits and feel any sort of regret or embarrassment. I never blended in, and I was always okay with that. I don’t think I blend in now, but I would argue that I am slightly more normal than my days of wearing band shirts under cocktail dresses (which is still cool, and I highly recommend).

I’m deciding to write this now because I had these calm and solemn feelings this week, and I noticed them the most when curled up and reading an essay on the train home Tuesday night. I had my headphones in without music, and I was reading an essay about a woman with a skin condition that led her to live in the dark for a decade. And I felt the happiest in this situation. That’s how I know I’ve become an introvert. I thrive the most when I am alone or in one-on-one situations. My sixteen-year-old self would have never thought this would happen, but she can kiss my ass.



Until next post. xx

P.S. saw a frog the size of my face when we were shooting this and I went after it! best part of the day because they are my favorite.

9w7a1232 9w7a1256 9w7a1316 9w7a1388 9w7a1405 9w7a1435


  • Permanent Procrastination

    Growing up I always thought I was such an extrovert, so out there, so loud. Nowadays I’m so very different, I’m unsure how I ever was like that??
    Tegan xx – Permanent Procrastination

    • Ashley Ballard

      Tegan, sorry for the late reply! I didn’t realize that these comments were here LOL

      People evolve and change in the most unexpected of ways. Sometimes different is good!

  • Adele

    Thanks for this raw and open post. ❤️ I can relate to so much you write. I can literally go for months and months without seeing any people/friends and I’m totally fine with it. I’m so absorbed within myself (in a good way – I guess/hope -) that I literally forget to socialize. And I’m okay with it. I thrive when I’m alone. It’s a good place for me. I know this sounds weird to many people, but it feels right to me.

    Adele |

    • Adele

      Also: gorgeous pictures!! 🙂


      Thank you, Adele, you are so very sweet. It means so much to know that people are reading and see themselves in what I write.

      Keep on keeping up with me! 🙂 xox

    • Ashley Ballard

      OMG Adele I am just seeing this! Thank you so much for your sweet comment. I am so happy to know that you can relate to what I post, and you are unapologetically a wonderful introvert. 🙂 xoxo