Starting from early childhood, I've constantly been made to feel inadequate. Other children in my school would neglect me, and I would often try to seek attention through eccentric acts, as any child would — my personality today is a product of being treated as an exotic animal in my formative years, and I continue to feel like an exotic animal well into my adulthood. I had almost no friends in childhood, and continue to have almost no friends well into my adulthood. In adulthood, I get the socially-acceptable label of "introvert", which is basically a convenient story that people tell themselves to justify leaving someone out.
The common recurring themes are that I'm not "well-adjusted" or "have healthy habits" because I don't live life the way most people live their lives. I observe the lives of these people — they have something planned for every single day of the week. Depending on the individual, it's mix of outings like theater, cinema, gigs, museums, restaurants, bars with groups of friends. It also includes activities they wouldn't do their friends like spin class, meetups, book clubs, or pottery class. Conversations often revolve around the latest TV shows, films, or venues in the city. They fill up nearly all their time with something or the other — even the small gaps of "free time" are filled with something like Instagram. They're unfailingly in a mode of constant distraction, and their attention often falters on tasks that demand it. Their world-views and values are nauseatingly similar and shallow.
On the other hand, I often have nothing planned, and nothing to do most of the time. I have little interest in any of the things those other people are interested in, and am vastly more comfortable at home. I spend my ample free time listening to music, reading, writing, thinking, and doing research. I'm far removed from the TV/film world, and if at all I watch something, it's usually a lecture. My attention never falters, and all it takes is a couple of distractions to ruin my day. Yes, I'm perfectly fine being alone, out of necessity — I'm actually quite curious about, and fond of, people. Yet, I have make do with whatever little social interaction I get, which usually comes in two forms: discussing some code in an open source community over plain-text postings, and chatting with a friendly neighborhood-cafe owner. It should come as no surprise that many people in my open source community are very similar to me, and contribute to the open source project for the purpose and the community — I meet these people in real life maybe once or twice a year at a conference.
We don't make choices about our early childhoods, and by extension, don't get to choose to be who we are as adults. I have the maturity to accept who I am, be content with it, and not have the desire to change what's set in stone. I certainly don't need to be told to "find a partner", "join a book club", or "meet more people" — these pieces of cliché "advice" are parroted endlessly by the foolish. I often pretend and lie in front of these people, out of courtesy — something I hate doing. My real "social circle" consists of a ragtag of people with diagnosed or undiagnosed mental illnesses, who talk for hours, and say the most unique and entertaining things — more importantly, they're real friends because they accept me for who I am.