Somewhere along the way, “alone” started to sound like a bad word. We’re told to do things with friends, post them online, and make every experience a group one. But lately, I’ve been learning that doing things alone— really alone— can be one of the most peaceful parts of life.
It didn’t start intentionally. I’d walk to grab coffee between classes or head to the store, and somewhere amidst the quiet, I realized that I really liked just… being alone. No small talk. No worrying about whether or not someone else was having a good time. Just me, myself, and whatever playlist fits the mood.
At first, when I went places alone, I was kind of self-conscious. I’d scroll through my phone, pretending to be busy, or overthink what other people would think. There’s this unspoken assumption that you’re sitting alone in public because you have no one— that you’re lonely, or, worse, being pitied. But the reality is: no one is watching. Everyone is too wrapped up in their own lives to notice you enjoying a latte on your own. Once that registered, it was freeing.
There’s a certain confidence that exists in being alright alone. You no longer need background noise to mask the silence. You no longer base your happiness on other people being available to go with you. You find your own company is not something you need to be escaping— it can be something you enjoy.
I’ve started to love the small solo rituals that make up my week. Shopping for groceries slowly. Sitting on a bench after class just because I feel like it. Taking myself on “errands that feel like dates”— Target runs, bookstore browsing, slow mornings with coffee. I’ll listen to music or watch people or just let my mind wander. There’s no one to be funny for, no conversation to keep moving. Just a quiet kind of peace.
Alone doesn’t need to be lonely. It’s the contrary, really. It’s getting to know yourself as you’d get to know another person— slowly, with interest, and free of judgment. You start to notice what actually makes you happy, what peace you crave, what you need to recharge. In a world that’s constantly telling us to be social, to be productive, to be online, being alone can be the most defiant thing of all.
I’m not saying I don’t love my friends — I do. But the more I’ve grown to enjoy my own company, the less I require other individuals to make life whole. There’s something so grounding in knowing you can be happy even in the quiet moments.
So, sure, I still love nights out and belly laughs. But I’ve also come to love the silence — the quiet of an empty coffee shop, the stillness of a solo walk to class. Alone doesn’t need to mean something is missing. It simply means you’ve finally made space for yourself.