There's certainly a lot to be said for intellectual pursuits being benefited by the abilities of some persons to be okay with just their own company. I'm glad to be able to count myself among them.

However, regarding your question about whether I was always "that way" .. I was always told that I was an introvert and a loner, and my lack of friends and of social confidence certainly suggested that was the case. But the truth is that my awkwardness stemmed from bad self-esteem, which stemmed from being bullied and worse both at school and at home, and once I got a change of scenery I experienced different parts of myself. For instance, I'm American but at a certain point went to boarding school in England, and without the baggage of anyone having preconceived notions about who I was -- and without the baggage of my own family being around to put me down -- I was released to experience myself as a person worthy of social regard, and I developed excellent friendships there. Turned out I was vibrant, funny, all kinds of things that were subjugated in my experience living back in the States with my family.

Later in my life I made career choices that allowed me to move thousands of miles away from my hometown, and I likewise was able to move more freely with others, enjoying a much better variety of social engagement, and popularity at a level I had not formerly known. Some of this I credit to the location I moved to, that people were less uptight, more open-minded to others etc. but I'm sure part of it was also due to how I felt there, that it was a place I could make my own instead of being the place I just happened to end up in by being born to my parents.

I've definitely been on both sides of the coin where social orientation is concerned. For me, once I truly realized that my supposed introversion was only the product of the bad behaviors of those around me and including my family, I was determined not to accept it, and to find others more like me, however much I might have to awkwardly put myself out there until I did.

These words of Timothy Leary's about finding the others always spoke to me:

“Admit it. You aren’t like them. You’re not even close. You may occasionally dress yourself up as one of them, watch the same mindless television shows as they do, maybe even eat the same fast food sometimes. But it seems that the more you try to fit in, the more you feel like an outsider, watching the “normal people” as they go about their automatic existences. For every time you say club passwords like “Have a nice day” and “Weather’s awful today, eh?”, you yearn inside to say forbidden things like “Tell me something that makes you cry” or “What do you think deja vu is for?”. Face it, you even want to talk to that girl in the elevator. But what if that girl in the elevator (and the balding man who walks past your cubicle at work) are thinking the same thing? Who knows what you might learn from taking a chance on conversation with a stranger? Everyone carries a piece of the puzzle. Nobody comes into your life by mere coincidence. Trust your instincts. Do the unexpected. Find the others…”