on being alone

and spending time with myself

Sep 09, 2024

For as long as I can remember, being alone has been my last resort. Solitude is for commuting to work, grocery shopping, doing laundry, and going to the gym, maybe, if Emily isn’t free. When it comes to events, having fun, and exploring, those are reserved for time spent with a friend or loved one.

I often ask, "How fun can something be if you don’t have someone to share it with?” I have the loveliest people in my circle (if you’re reading this, that includes you!), and it’s a joy to experience life with them.

I’ve trained my mind to believe that the only reason to do something alone is because no one else is available to join me. I imagine that sounds a bit sad, and it feels that way for me too. I wish solitude came naturally to me. I admire my friends who effortlessly do things on their own without needing anyone else’s company.

Recently, as I’ve been thinking about my plans for the future and what I want the next year of my life to look like, I’ve come to understand that to achieve some of my biggest goals, I need to embrace solitude.

Now, I know what you’re thinking: “You’re never alone<3 You have friends, family, and a boyfriend; we’re all cheering you on!” Yep, but unfortunately, if I decide to jet off, you’ll be cheering me on from afar. I’ll feel your love, but physically, I’ll be by myself—far from those I know and cherish. There will be opportunities to meet new people, sure, but I’ll be arriving alone and navigating day-to-day life—activities, dinners, and transportation—on my own.

In preparation, I’ve been micro-dosing the act of enjoying my own company by taking solo day trips. For example, I’m writing to you now outside Textbook Café. I have an iced oat latte to my right, my headphones in, and I'm listening to “Secret Love” by Stevie Nicks, which I shamelessly Shazamed from one of the recent episodes of The Bear.

I took the bus here, something I typically only do with a friend. The weather is gorgeous, and once I finish this draft, I’ll pack up and head to a bench in Fort Greene Park to continue reading The Bee Sting by Paul Murray. It’s a hefty novel, clocking in at over 640 pages, and while it took 60 pages to hook me, I think I’m enjoying it so far. I’ll report back.

As I reflect on the ways I hope to grow and improve throughout my life, being comfortable with being alone stands out as a significant goal. To be at ease by oneself is to be at ease with oneself—a quality I greatly admire in others and aspire to develop.

By embracing solo experiences—exploring new places, meeting people, and embarking on adventures—I’m gradually reprogramming my mind to recognize that I don’t need others by my side to enjoy life. It’s daunting to instill a new set of beliefs into your brain; we are creatures of habit, after all. But, once again, I’m reminded that the most intimidating challenges are often the ones most worth pursuing.

I’m optimistic that the ideas stirring in my mind are emerging because they’re worth pursuing, because I’m capable of making them happen, and because, in doing so, I’ll become a more self-sufficient version of myself.

As I continue to spend more quality time alone (and that means more adventure and exploration as opposed to laundry and the Stairmaster), I hope to find blue skies and green grass, the same curiosity I have for others about myself, and the strength that comes from seeking comfort in the uncomfortable.

If Malcolm Gladwell is right, it’ll take me 10,000 hours to master solitude. That number feels insurmountable, but two years ago, I had no desire to even try. With each new experience, I’m reshaping my relationship with myself—no longer a last resort, but a place of peace and fulfillment. That’s growth in itself, little by little. I’m working my way there in 4-hour increments and look forward to seeing where the road takes me, myself, and I.