In middle school, if a teacher was a no-show for a period and we had free time, I had no problem getting in front of the class for entertainment.

Often with a song. Sometimes with a joke. I had no problem being the center of attention.

As I got older, I was still outgoing and, at times, even the life of the party. However, I found myself enjoying time alone. It was refreshing even.

So, the idea of introverts and extroverts being on a spectrum makes sense. But I also tend to believe there is a ping-pong game going on.

As I grow older, gained experience, read a lot of books, and white papers, something else began to strike me. Even as a spectrum, the notion of introvert and extrovert is not enough to capture it all.

Last year, Dr. Rami Kaminski, an American psychiatrist, came up with the concept of otrovert. Not exactly a middle ground, but something completely different.

When I read about it, I thought it was very interesting.

A Name for the Unnamed

Dr. Kaminski, with four decades of practice, noticed a pattern in his patients. These weren’t introverts—they weren’t drained by social interaction or hiding in corners. And they weren’t extroverts either—they didn’t need the crowd’s energy to feel alive.

They were something else entirely.

He called them “otroverts,” from the Spanish word otro, meaning “other.”

Kaminski introduced the concept in his 2025 book The Gift of Not Belonging: How Outsiders Thrive in a World of Joiners, and it’s struck a chord with people worldwide.

The book explains that being a otrovert simply means you don’t have a sense of belonging. Nothing wrong with that. Kaminski agrees with me.

Or I with him.

He also argues that being a perpetual outsider isn’t a flaw to fix—it might actually be a superpower.

So What Exactly Is an Otrovert?

Here’s the key distinction: Introversion and extroversion are about energy—where you get it, how you spend it, whether people charge you up or drain you.

Otroversion is about belonging—specifically, the consistent feeling that you don’t, even when you’re welcomed with open arms.

According to Kaminski, otroverts are “outsiders treated like insiders.” They can be warm, friendly, even outgoing. They’re not socially anxious. They just never feel that tribal pull, that emotional connection that makes others say, “these are my people.”

Some hallmarks of otroversion:

  • Preferring one-on-one connections over groups. An otrovert would rather have a deep two-hour conversation with one person than work a room.

  • No real attachment to teams, alma maters, or company loyalty. That kind of struck a chord with me. I’ve been a Panthers fan for years. But when I moved to the Midwest, and the games weren’t readily available, I decided to root for the Chiefs. Once I returned to the East Coast, my “allegiance” was back to the Panthers.

  • Standing by your own opinions even when everyone else in the room thinks differently—not to be contrarian, but because groupthink genuinely doesn’t sway you.

  • Specialists, not generalists. Interests that run narrow but deep.

  • Polite and considerate, sometimes to a fault. Otroverts aren’t combative about their differences. They’re just… quietly themselves.

  • No FOMO. If everyone’s doing something and you’re not, that’s perfectly fine.

Born This Way—Or Made?

Here’s where it gets interesting.

Kaminski argues that we’re all born otroverts. Babies don’t come into the world with team allegiances or tribal identities. They’re pure individuals.

Then the conditioning begins. “Share with your friends.” “Go play with the group.” Team sports, summer camps, and school cohorts divided into Red Team and Blue Team. We’re taught that belonging equals healthy development, and opting out is rarely an option.

Most people internalize this. The belonging instinct takes root. But for some, it never quite sticks.

As Kaminski wrote in TIME: “We are born unaffiliated. No newborn has a religion, nationality, or ethnicity. Babies do not naturally feel attachment to a group of strangers.”

The Gift (and Challenge) of Not Belonging

There’s a reason Kaminski called his book “The Gift of Not Belonging.”

Otroverts, he argues, are resistant to groupthink. They see things others miss because they’re not caught up in tribal dynamics. History’s great independent thinkers—Frida Kahlo, Franz Kafka, Albert Einstein, George Orwell—shared this quality.

They could spot the dangers of hive-mind thinking before everyone else.

In a world where polarization is tearing at the seams of every conversation, that perspective is interesting. As Kaminski puts it: “At a time when demands for exclusion and aggression grow louder, we don’t need more tribes and groups. We need individual empathy, compassion, and kindness.”

But it’s not all upside. Living as an outsider in a culture that prizes joiners and team players can be lonely. The workplace rewards those who “fit the culture.” Social life revolves around groups. Teenagers especially struggle when they can’t find their tribe—because everyone insists they need one.

Is This Even Real?

Fair question. Otroversion is a hypothesis, not established psychology. It hasn’t been validated through peer-reviewed research the way introversion and extroversion have over the past century.

Carly Dober, a psychologist with the Australian Association of Psychologists, noted that while the concept isn’t invalidated, “there is no peer-reviewed research into it… That’s how many terms are created and later validated—someone saying ‘I noticed something clinically and I’m calling it X.’”

Clinical psychologist Jacqueline Baulch adds a caution: “If you appeal to labels too much, you lose that curiosity to explore what might be going on underneath.”

Some skeptics suggest that what looks like otroversion might actually be neurodivergence, attachment patterns from childhood, or simply a counterculture identity. All worth considering.

But for many people, the term has been clarifying. Writer Ann Volkwein described reading Kaminski’s book as “a relief. It led to a deeper level of self-acceptance. He’s given a name to something people felt. That’s powerful.”

What It Means for Relationships

Here’s something that might surprise you: otroverts can be excellent partners.

One woman writing for Oprah Daily described her boyfriend—a classic otrovert—as warm, funny, a great listener, and deeply attentive. The difference? “He doesn’t need to be with you,” Kaminski told her. “He wants to be with you.”

Otroverts connect deeply with a precious few people rather than spreading thin across many. For the right partner, that focused attention is a gift.

Maybe It’s Just… You

I’ll be honest—a lot of this resonates with me personally. That sense of being welcomed but not quite belonging. Preferring the deep conversation in the corner over the group activity. Watching everyone get swept up in something and feeling unmoved.

For years, I figured I was doing something wrong or that I was secretly an introvert in denial. Or that I just hadn’t found “my people” yet.

Maybe none of that was true. Maybe I’m just an otrovert.

And maybe that’s okay.