The Revealing Art of Loneliness
And Self-awareness
I read somewhere that loneliness is not being alone, it’s the feeling of not being known.
I couldn’t agree more.
Last year, my BFF and I moved into an apartment together. We were very excited to do it, but there was trepidation in my heart; a gnawing feeling that something would go wrong. I should have listened to it.
She and I have been BFFs for 13 years, this year would have made it 14, so moving in together was a no-brainer, like I said we were excited and had been talking about it for ages.
The first week I moved in, I got down on my knees and prayed. I told God that I didn’t just want to pass time ( because I have a huge tendency to do that). I told Him I wanted to live, to grow, to fully be me. But it’s one thing to pray and it’s another to believe. I didn’t believe.
My BFF works late. Leaves home at 5 am, comes back at 10 pm; on a good day. On the weekends, she took classes that ran from morning till evening; Saturday and Sunday. So naturally, I never got to see her. It was not what I envisioned when we moved in together. I thought we would spend weekends together, trying new things, going to new places. I thought we would stay up late, talking about everything and anything. But she had told me beforehand that she would be barely available and I had told her that I could handle it. That it would be good for me. That I would find ways to fill my time. I didn’t.
I would spend the entire day working. Sometimes till 10 pm myself, only stopping to eat, take calls or watch a 20 minute sitcom. On the days I didn’t have as much work, I would cook. But it sucked to eat alone because the BFF would get home too tired to talk, much less eat anything. Eventually, food became a crutch. I would pile plate after plate; eating to fill the time.
I tried to tell myself that it was fine. That I ate and planned elaborate meals during the weekends because I loved it. I did love it, but it was no longer the reason I did it. I told myself that I was a self-sufficient woman. I should go out. Make new friends, go on dates, do stuff, just do anything. But I couldn’t. You see, before we moved in together, my best friend planned all our outings. Every single one of them. To be honest, I hated most of them because they often involved being in places I hated and talking to people whose perspectives were in direct contrast with mine. But I went anyway.
Few weeks into basically living by myself. I finally understood the true meaning of loneliness. I was sitting on the floor, working and suddenly I paused. There was this unimaginable silence, thick, heavy, pressing down on my chest. Somehow the apartment felt like a trap, and my thoughts were my captor. They unravelled as if someone had pulled the edge of a thread and was now gleefully unrolling it. All my fears, doubts, insecurities bubbled to the surface and it was then I realised how much I had been struggling to keep them down. I burst into tears, heaving and crying because I didn’t understand what was happening. Everything was wrong, and yet nothing was.
That happened more than once.
I thought I would enjoy being myself but I wasn’t. I had come from a house; filled with noise and arguments and people always getting in your space. But at that moment, I missed my sisters so much it physically hurt.
I had lived with my BFF for a month by then, and I had never been more distant from her.
In bits and pieces, I had begun to realize how startlingly different we both were. I no longer found our conversations appealing, because they were not the kind of things I wanted to talk about. I no longer wanted to go out with her because being there made me feel even more alone. She had this seamless ability to blend into any conversation, connect with anyone, while holding an aloofness that was endearing. I marvelled at how she was able to do that.
Before we moved in together, we would have arguments, or rather I would call her out for something she did to me, (she never seemed to get offended at any thing I did) and she would give me space. Go for a few days without calling or texting and then finally call to see if I had “cooled off.” It was fine when we didn’t live together, but when we did; this flaw became so disgustingly glaring.
If she did something to me, or if we had issues about the house to discuss, I wanted to talk about it right then and get it over with. And if she avoided it, which she often did, I would leave her a long VN or text which she would also ignore.
Where she hated confrontation and talking about stuff. I wanted it; needed it. That day, where I had burst into tears at the heaviness of the silence and the cycling of my thoughts, had scared and disgusted me. So, I needed to talk about everything, so there was nothing to think about. Which was surprising because I had previously assumed I was someone who could keep their feelings and thoughts in check, and didn’t need to talk about everything.
In all of our interactions and non — interactions, I realized something; I didn’t know myself. I thought things didn’t get to me as much, but they did.
I thought, given my own space and time, I would bloom, I couldn’t. I was too bogged down with fear and insecurity to try.
I thought I knew my BFF and knew who I was apart from her, but I didn’t. I had been a sidekick my whole life and I didn’t know how to be the main character in my own story.
Soon, our friendship deteriorated, and there was a huge space in my life, where she used to be. A space I eventually realized was mine, not hers to fill. And that was my peak lesson of loneliness.
The truest form of loneliness is not knowing yourself. There’s a huge space inside of you where your essence should be. This emptiness follows you wherever you go, it hangs over you like a cloud. It tugs at you, sometimes begging you to explore, other times mocking you for not even trying. There are days when it physically hurts, so you clutch your chest and count down from 10 so you don’t go into a panic.
I moved out eventually, over an issue. One that in retrospect, maybe wasn’t that big. But after all this time, I’ve realized that I moved out in desperation. I needed to know who I was apart from her, apart from this friendship that has been a huge part of my life. I realised that I had a lot of insecurities and an incessant need for validation, from her. I realised that I wasn’t myself with her, because I didn’t know who that was and she wasn’t herself with me either because she was afraid that I would judge her. Which I already did anyway.
I had begun to resent her for the freedom I thought she had and I didn’t. And resent myself for resenting someone that I was supposed to love.
I had been holding grudges against her for years, things she hadn’t apologized for and had assumed that I had forgiven. Things that she had apologized for, but I had found difficult to forgive.
The day we had our final fight, I came away thinking; it’s not her, it’s you. You are the problem, how do you love someone and hold a grudge against them for years? How do you love someone and somehow hate them?
It didn’t make any sense to me. I thought I was always selfless, I thought I was kind. I thought I was patient but I wasn’t.
But most importantly, I realized that in my effort to be a good Christian, I had become quite judgey. Sitting on my high horse and looking down on people for doing the very thing I struggled tirelessly not to do.
The saddest thing about stepping into 2022 was that I realized that some of my friendships were false. Aside from my BFF, I was friends with someone I couldn’t trust. Every time she did or said something, I would look for an ulterior motive and of course, I always found one.
Eventually, I backed away slowly. Because it doesn’t matter how you feel, trust is so essential in a friendship. You cannot be friends with someone if some part of you believes that given the opportunity they would hurt you.
I can’t say I’m doing better these days. I can say I’m trying to be more aware of myself. Doing that always puts me into a conflict, because I cannot quite figure out who I am and what I want, and reconciling that with who God wants me to be is the toughest of all
I’m lonelier and I think better for it. I’ve realized unless you truly know yourself unless you get comfortable with the silence; every friendship, every relationship will be a crutch. You will go into them needy, dependent and in constant need of validation.
Side Bar: I started bingeing Brooklyn 99, it is hilarious. If our friendship was what it used to be, the BFF and I would binge it together. We almost always agree about movies. If she hates it, she would have said something like; I don’t get it. Why do you love Jake Peralta ,he is so immature. If she loves it, she would have compulsively downloaded every episode, saved them for me to watch so we can talk about it. She is the whole reason I watched Friends.
Thank you for reading ♥️
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