Solitude
Embracing the advantages of solitude
For the past few months, I have felt conflicted. I ran away from social validation. It will no longer take control of my life. At least, that is what I tell myself. Instead of trying to follow my friends, I leaned into my own interests, and this caused me to be more alone.
Inevitably, I believe the adjustment benefitted me. My mind was more relaxed and calmer at home than outside at night. Meeting new acquaintances and mingling with familiar faces was fun until I recognized I wasn’t in high school or college anymore. Riding in a car with super loud music playing was draining after a long day at work.
Slowly, I resisted going out to meet new people. The phone calls lessened with each refusal. I received less text messages and invitations. In a sense, my friends and I went in different directions because our paths didn’t align. Therefore, I found a new sense of freedom.
My environment wasn’t extravagant growing up. There were several distractions that could’ve deterred me. It seemed like every corner had a liquor store or rowdy bar to dismantle the community. My regained freedom reminded me why I stayed away from those places.
Depending on the crowd, those atmospheres got dark and lonely fast. I tend to remember seeing and hearing belligerent people arguing, which usually led to physical altercations. From my experience, there was never a winner in that situation. The acts were overly senseless.
When I’m pulled into situations that distort my outlook, I see no benefit in continuing to engage in it. If I could dash away from a street fight I would. Meanwhile, many of the people surrounding me seemed to invite confrontation.
I honestly never found the possibility of getting a black eye or losing teeth intriguing.
Trouble was awaiting me. The effort I put into getting an outfit together, smelling nice, and maintaining a fresh haircut was taxing. I got to the point where I questioned everything and contemplated the real-life risk versus reward scenario.
Nothing made me ponder more than the black lights roaming the rooms. I couldn’t connect with the anticipated thrills. Sometimes, I was lifeless looking at crowds of people enjoying themselves.
Then I had the nerve to complain when my ears rang the next day. I thought I could take my memories back home and brag about them. The opposite was true. I emptied the bits of soul left in me into a journal. In those pages, I gained clarity as to who and what I was doing it for.
Keeping up with the latest trends isn’t me. I never found it interesting to follow social norms. Those adventurous moments gave me the illusion of feeling younger and cool. This is when I felt like the biggest hypocrite. Here I was doing things that contradicted what I stood for.
Time alone gave me a much-needed balance compared to noisy late nights with hostile strangers. Getting away from that environment was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made because I gained more time to pursue new interests.
By giving myself more time, I also had greater energy for running and going to the gym. Those activities gave me clarity amongst stress and pressure.
Besides, I needed to challenge my social anxiety better. Being in places where I couldn’t hold conversations or at least feel calm worsened it. There were too many elements to nightlife that made me dislike people.
Anxiety is a relentless monster. It attacks me everywhere I go which is why I picked up yoga and meditation. These practices benefit me unbelievably. I love gaining control over my negative thoughts. My initial experiences at a yoga studio taught me that I’m not the only one seeking improvement.
Being around like-minded people inspired me. Their kindness and lack of judgement made my practice wholesome. My surroundings diversified my music taste. I listened to lo-fi music at work and enjoyed hearing relaxing nature sounds increasingly at home.
Productivity brought additional peace into my life. Since my college days, I engaged in photography, but never took the time to deeply learn the craft. I stuck to taking photos on my smartphone.
In the back of my mind, I always wanted to own a camera and further develop my creations.
After a long debate with myself, I gave in and dug into photography. I took advantage of the camera equipment available at work and learned how to function cameras through a colleague. From there, I started to read articles and manuals and watched videos pertaining to photography.
Understanding the craft can be tough. The greatest lessons came from practice and constant failure. It took me months before I somewhat understood the exposure triangle or adjusted my style to include vertical shots.
There were various moments of frustration and confusion, but I trusted the process and believed in my abilities. I ended up investing in camera equipment and bought photo editing software to use in my free time.
I made an Instagram to get my work out there, but my following is tiny. Marketing content and drawing an audience is another science I’m trying to figure out. Everchanging social media algorithms don’t seem to help with that.
Every aspect of my lifestyle tends to consist of performance. I strive to be a greater version of myself each day. There are setbacks, but the effort I put in matters to me the most. Although, I enjoyed photography and learning about social media, I couldn’t let those outlets become obsessions.
When the experience felt more like a job than a hobby I looked forward to indulging in, I had to reevaluate my intentions. Eventually, I created and shared content with who I could which was an approach I loved instantly.
Beyond productivity, I accepted that I couldn’t swallow and absorb sadness. Having good people around is wonderful, but during my periods of disengagement, finding pleasure with my own presence was a solid response.
Being at restaurants alone wasn’t horrible. Going for walks alone wasn’t horrible. Watching a movie alone wasn’t horrible! I had no reason to switch my motive for other people when I enjoyed those experiences.
In fact, eating at restaurants alone taught me the significance of a good meal. I felt soothed by my calmness because I wasn’t in a rush or forced to have a conversation. Eating alone wasn’t bad especially when I had a nice view of the streets or parts of nature.
Time doesn’t slow down, and when you have many objectives, it tends to speed up. At times, it’s a bit terrifying. Walking alone taught me the essence of silence and paying attention to the present.
At movie theaters, I cut off all the distractions plaguing my mind. I immersed into my lair of comfort and junk food. The experience was more satisfying since I got to watch what I liked and didn’t have to consider other people’s preferences.
Solitude only became dangerous when I felt warfare within myself. Those moments came about around holidays or weekend celebrations I saw online. I couldn’t understand how others had so much fun in the same places I felt miserable at.
My nights outside meeting strangers and avoiding temptations taught me valuable lessons: fun is subjective, and entertainment can’t be universal.
