When I was in high school, I was unbelievably eager to escape my sleepy hometown, curfew and routine. In my first semester, I immediately jumped into every aspect of college life that was thrown at me. I joined executives boards, clubs, got a part-time job and tried to be at every party I heard about. The fall of 2019 was a semester I’ll never forget because of this, but I created a very unhealthy relationship with rest and solitude at this time.
As an introvert, I surely wasn’t acting like one. I could not say no to any opportunity—not because I was that enthusiastic about it—but out of the fear of missing out. “FOMO” usually references the moment when you check your friend’s story and regret turning down their offer to go party. For me, it was the fear of not reaching my potential. I didn’t know what I truly wanted out of college at the time, so I tried to do everything. What college freshman does know? Instead of cutting out the things that were draining me, I had convinced myself that my fatigue was from a lack of reward. I thought I wasn’t achieving enough, so I added more and more to my plate, waking up every day searching for a feeling that never came.
This past fall, the plate broke from the pressure.
Once the simplicity of syllabus week faded away, it became crystal clear what was bringing me energy and what was not. Now, in my junior year, I have hit a brick wall of burnout. Three years of overworking myself, sleep deprivation and unhealthy eating habits have had a profound impact on my mental health. I knew I had to take action, but it was dramatically hard to reverse years worth of patterns.
Reflection around New Year’s led me to see my key to finding balance in my life has always involved going inward. To truly go deep this time, I needed to be alone. Constant noise from friends and family started to cloud my focus on putting my own needs first. I started setting true boundaries for the first time in my life. In the past, I would discredit my fatigue and continue to push through the week until I was relieved to be able to spend my weekends sleeping in and coping with the stress of the week by partying during the night.
I didn’t want to live this way anymore. I chose to no longer act based on fear of what could happen but instead floating with the flow. Listening to my body and my mind taught me the value of alone time. When everything in me was telling me to go home and rest or close my laptop, I began to listen instead of ignoring those signs. Things I was hated doing alone in the past—going to the library, the gym or the park—was soon my personal sanctuary throughout the day. Instead of stubbornly going wherever my friends wanted to go or doing something for one of my extracurriculars whenever I had free time, I just allowed myself to be. About a month into making these changes, I was no longer running back to my room between classes for a moment to breathe, because I had eliminated the things that were suffocating me.
This was not an easy task for the first few months. I felt very lonely at times, questioning if distancing myself was going to deteriorate my friendships or change my effectiveness in my leadership roles. But, the price of a few sad moments in exchange for peace was well worth it. I even connected with new people who this new and improved version of me naturally relates to even better than others I’d met before.
I feel lighter than ever after spending time journaling, meditating and finding my passions again. I’ve learned the vital importance of incorporating a little bit of time to go inward every day. The true testament to my new lifestyle was the kickoff of spring break. Instead of rushing to the closest party as my past self would have, I spent this past weekend completely alone. I did things that truly brought me joy that I hadn’t set aside time to do in years. I deleted Instagram as soon as I got off work Friday to start my true season of solitude.
I was productive in small ways every day but allowed myself a majority of the weekend not to be. With no work to do and no distractions, I felt closer to myself than ever. I soaked up the sun with a good book at Monroe, cooked my favorite childhood meals instead of grabbing takeout, tried out new workouts at the nearly empty gym and watched movies I’d been dying to see. It was euphoric to be entirely alone without any external stimuli or validation and be okay with it. As spring approaches, I’m excited to emerge out of hermit mode and let the healing I took the time to do alone shine a bright light on the next chapter of my life.