About this time last year, I embarked on a life changing trip sailing the Greek Islands. The trip revealed a deep need to change my fast-paced, stressed out, harried lifestyle. I returned to the U.S. and spent the coming year creating a new way of life, removing multiple extraneous activities from my schedule, simplifying my routine, making time to do what I truly love with those who truly matter. I changed my thinking, asked for office help, cleared clutter from my home, and carved out large chunks of time for rest, doing nothing (literally), and social activities. Done deal, right? Nope, the life lessons continue…

                Part II happened in Spain. Last month I spent eight days in Madrid and Ibiza- about two hours into my flight across the Atlantic, I felt a second round of what began in Greece beginning to brew again. A few months prior to this solo travel adventure, I started praying about the trip and sensing the words, true colors, true blue, true you, the real you, replaying over and over like a favorite tune on repeat.

I discovered the mysterious meaning to this “true colors” phrase while sitting in an isle seat, softly smiling as I watched A Star Is Born on my little seatback television, when I saw a man stand up near the exit row to stretch, and he began conversing in a jolly tone with his family. I watched as they laughed, joked in Spanish, and generally seemed to be having a rip-roaring jovial time on this overnight flight. I smiled, and thought to myself, “Huh. That looks like a cool group and a nice person, someone I’d desire to know.” Wait…Did I really just think this? Hannah, the “less of a people person,” and “more introverted now,” who usually expends excessive energy seeking time alone?

                It hit. I realized…Somewhere along the line, I forgot the importance of relationships. Friendships. Community. Social circles. Forgiveness. I forgot how to genuinely smile. I forgot how to let God’s love flow freely in and out with others. I allowed my relational wounds to shape me into a person I am not. Several years ago, I withdrew, claiming introversion, and hunkered down within a protective shell, avoiding social interaction and frequently needing to muster quite a bit of energy to smile in professional settings. In my twenties, I used to be more bubby, outgoing, and talked to nearly everyone. (Probably to the point of being one of those annoying overly-perky people.)

                So what happened along the way to cause a more reclusive tendency?! Built up hurts from “people” jaded my true colors, marring the painting’s original brilliance and burying who God made me to be. Harsh words and demands. Angry human beings. Betrayal and compassion fatigue. Broken trust, unrealistic expectations, pressures, and inadvertent condescending remarks. Those who went back on their word, disrespected my “no.” Failed relationships and strained relations. Broken promises. Heck, even driving on I-25 is enough to make a person hole up and avoid the world. Add to this my ten year on-and-off struggle with panic attacks, heaping more onto the “just avoid social situations, I’m not a people person anymore, I’m an introvert now” jargon. A month prior to Spain, I began feeling an unfamiliar emotion…Loneliness. A hunger for interaction. What was this about?!

                And in that isle seat flying to Madrid, probably 2am Colorado time, I learned to genuinely smile again. God gently drew a line in the sand from my past, dropping a great capacity within my spirit to love again, despite hurts. And throughout the trip, He continued to restore the painting to its original brilliance. The true Hannah is extroverted by nature. I really am a “people person” by nature. I desire to show kindness to others, allowing goodness to flow out, and joy to rush in. Life must be shared. Experiences must be shared. We need relationships. We need each other.

We need social interaction regularly, especially us extroverts- perhaps that includes chatting with strangers on the plane, telling someone on the bus what a cute, well-behaved kid they have, or striking up conversation at a coffee shop with a person who sparks our curiosity. We are designed for human touch, and at least for me as a Christian, this is a vital part of my representation of Christianity. Relationships and loving others- the crux of it all!

Of course, boundaries must come into play, we need to carefully choose our true friends, and remain cautiously distant if a person drags us down. And I’m not saying to let just anyone in, be best friends with everyone, naively assuming good intentions all the time, or to avoid time alone at all costs. I’m just saying…We extroverts need interaction. And others need us.

As a result of “coming out of my shell,” on the trip, I found it easier to smile. I wanted to smile. I met another single female solo traveler on my flight to Ibiza with a fabulous sense of humor. I met a wonderful group of Indians on a boat outing who all just wanted to dance, marvel over the crystal clear blue water, laugh, and lay in the sun. I connected with a girl from Israel at my hostel (spoiler alert: The next destination!) and a lovely woman from Switzerland who corralled two guys from Poland and Romania, and we rented a car and went beach hopping all day. I spent an evening in fascinating conversation with a guy from South Africa, and met a girl who went to Colorado State University who practically traveled the whole world, fearlessly teaching English in multiple countries. I sipped wine with a handsome gentleman who also went to Indiana University (where I went to art school), and chatted in broken English with my very sweet roommates from Korea. My protective shell broke. And the whole world opened up.

But this doesn’t mean I didn’t revel in quiet time by myself in Spain! I spent wonderful afternoons wandering through cobblestone streets and treating myself to smoked salmon, fresh olives, and mozzarella cheese with rich red wine. I listened to moving music by street performers, stood before master works of painters, and watched the world go by while journaling at local cafes. But I also booked a catamaran excursion, which upon arrival I discovered no one else joining. Perhaps a little too much time alone with my thoughts that afternoon, this revelation over the importance of relationships sunk in deep. You can be on a million dollar boat, but if no one else is with you…Especially for the extrovert, it loses its meaning, its luster, its joy.

Friendships and acquaintances will be my greatest source of deep happiness, and my greatest source of pain- but in those painstaking moments, my Christian walk comes into play with forgiveness. Choosing to love my enemies. Choosing to remain open despite a difficult phone call or nasty remark, knowing not all humans will mistreat me. Choosing to surround myself with positive people, smile genuinely, and be a light rather than hiding away. The importance of encouraging others, being a friend to others, and being there for others. Doing things for others. Empowering and uplifting, bringing life to relationships.

For the normally cheerful extrovert, it takes a tremendous amount of work to restrain our true colors, cap our joy, and a painful amount of effort to maintain a façade of fake smiles, keep up the act, pretending constantly to be happy when in reality we need to deal with our wounds. It took work being something I’m not. It took work “avoiding people.” It took energy to wrestle with the person my hurts shaped me into. I exerted myself maintaining a life God never designed me to live, constantly swimming, pulling hard against resistance, as if trying to win a race in thick water, heartache causing unnecessary extra struggle and extra weight dragging me down during my race.

If you subscribe 100% to, “Its too people-y out there today, I don’t think I’ll go out,” I get it. Well, maybe I don’t. I’m not going to sit here and pretend to “understand” what you’ve been through in life or how you’re uniquely wired, but I hope to at least offer some empathy and compassion. I’m convinced our deepest regrets, pains, and aches come through other humans. But so do our best moments and the greatest acts of love.

Our greatest frustrations and heartaches imparted by friends and family, yet simultaneously here we all are, still on dating websites, getting married, loving on children. Planning barbeques and sending postcards because we miss each other, Skyping and buying plane tickets to visit family. Volunteering in the midst of floods and hurricanes, church planting and going on mission trips. The elderly man who tips his hat, smiles, and opens the door for you ladies. Or the young man who glances at you while you’re in full-blown “distressed traveler mode,” and quickly offers his seat on the bus or lifts your suitcase into the overhead bin for you.

In the midst of this wild wooly mess of relationships, I decided to focus my efforts on learning to operate in my true colors once again, rather than expending energy on walking through life as someone I’m not. Stripped of old, fading, jaded color, God restored the painting to its true brilliance. True blue. True colors. The true me. Travel changes you, and somewhere through all the adventure, mazes of train maps, boat excursions, and hostel life, I found connection, meaning, and truth. I know relationships will take work, but on the other side of effort, lies reward. Fulfillment. Perhaps seasons of tearing away, but balanced with seasons of cherished friendships and experiences connected to others and shared. Get on that boat with others. Share it. Watch the world open up.