How I Learned To Love Being On My Own
It’s a lost art
I’m what you’d call an introverted extrovert. I enjoy spending time with people and I like spending time on my own. My biggest challenge though was learning to enjoy the time with myself.
Of course, I could binge through hours of Netflix, read a book, or pretty much find any other way to mindlessly pass the time. But really enjoying the time on my own? No, I couldn’t do that for the longest time.
The pandemic really helped me I guess, the only social life I really got was with my parents and so I had to get a little creative if I didn’t want to go crazy.
I learned to write again because I had a lot to say but no one to say it, and learned to work out because it made me feel good, and I began to meditate and reflect and actually sit with my thoughts rather than try to distract myself from them.
I actually learned that I like myself. Even a few months back from that I wouldn’t have been able to fathom the thought. It’s nice to know I can still surprise myself.
Now that things have opened back up and I’ve got a life again I half expected myself to go back to my old ways. And I’m very glad that I didn’t.
Now I get to take myself out to places, for food and for drinks and to shop or just to walk around aimlessly and daydream.
I feel like a lot of people have been in my position, where they’ve been on their own and felt alone. And I’m sure a lot of people out there have felt the pressure or strange looks when they’re out on their own in public. I know I have, and I still do.
Maybe it’s a little bit cliché, but I fully support the idea of taking yourself out, to the movies, or to dinner or even just on that damn walk. Life feels a little more bearable when you enjoy spending time on your own, and you feel freer for it too. After all, at the end of the day, you’re the only one who knows you’ll be sticking around for life.
