Before college, I had never spent more than a week away from my family. During my freshman year, I spent an entire day and night by myself for the first time when my roommate left early for Christmas break. This past year (my sophomore year of college), I lived alone in a single apartment. Upon reflection, my progression of living situations (from always being with my family, to living with a roommate, to living entirely by myself) exemplifies the independence, confidence, and knowledge I have gained in the two short years I have been at TCU. Before attending university, the thought of living alone for a year, or even for a few days, was unthinkable; by the time I entered my sophomore year, I was looking forward to the peace and independence the experience would provide me.
As I reflect upon my time living in a single apartment after moving into a house with two other girls, I realize how unique, interesting, and beneficial the experience was. It was relaxing, fun, and calming yet simultaneously disquieting, frightening, and sometimes lonely. I learned a lot about myself as I inhabited a new space of existence, one that permitted me to expand rather than contract my presence (as I am wont to do in shared spaces). My (surprisingly) spacious apartment gave me the room and time to read, paint, sleep, feel, be, and probe my personality, temperament, and tendencies without severe external influence.
What living alone provided me
A space to ___
Of course, living in a single means that your apartment can take on many functions — it can be a movie room, an art studio, a place for friends to come together, a yoga studio, or a quiet study spot — since it is your apartment. Possessing the freedom to use my space in a variety of ways was extremely liberating, especially after living in a small one-room dorm with another person. This flexibility allowed me to explore and enjoy my various interests while feeling comfortable in spreading out and taking up space.
A space to experiment
Oftentimes, I struggle with trying something new when I feel the weight of others’ expectations upon me, and I generally prefer to test new fields alone so that I feel free to make the errors inherent in almost any learning curve. For example, my single apartment gave me the perfect non-judgmental space to embark on an art project using mediums I had rarely employed, which was both an ever-frightening and ever-exhilarating endeavor.
A space to simply be
Perhaps most importantly, living alone gave me the space to simply be. While I had a great freshman year dorm experience (I had a wonderful roommate, nice room, perfect location, and quiet neighbors) living in such a small space with another person during such an emotionally taxing period of life, especially as someone who prefers to be left alone to calm down when upset, was extremely difficult at times. I didn’t realize until that year how much I valued having my own space — a separate abode that permitted me to enjoy quiet, rest, read, cry, and talk on the phone with friends or family. Having an entire apartment to myself allowed me the space to feel, reflect, pursue my interests, and more.
What living alone stole from me
A built-in partner
One of the best things about living with another person is that you have a built-in friend to do anything from going to events on and off campus with to grocery shopping with; even the most simple, routine tasks become adventures and bonding experiences when you tackle them with your roommate. Not that I disliked doing these things by myself during the past year — there is a certain beauty and calm in the act of being alone and observing the world and those around you — but there were, of course, times when I wished I could share the experience with others.
Someone to talk to at the end of the day
This is perhaps the one I felt most acutely. After I returned from my classes during my freshman year, I would almost always tell my roommate anything of note (and when I say “of note,” I don’t even mean anything groundbreaking but simply anything that struck me, from a funny remark I overheard to an embarrassing moment I experienced) that occurred during my day, and then she would inform me of her day’s events. There is something so soul nourishing about this act, about being able to just pour out, with laughter, vexation, and incredulity, the most random and insignificant dribble to someone who listens with interest and emotion and to, in turn, listen with attentiveness. And there really is no substitute for this. Yes, you can call people — you can even call the person you previously roomed with — but the experience is not comparable; when you call someone or even schedule a time to meet with someone in person, there is an implicit expectation that what you discuss will be of at least some importance.
Should you live alone?
I realize that living alone is not for everyone; some describe it as unbearably lonely and isolating, and believe me, it can feel that way. However, in spite of the occasional loneliness I felt, when I reflect, I realize that it was a necessary experience for me. Living by myself helped me grow in many ways: it pushed me to actually make plans with friends (funnily enough), to learn more skills (I learned to cook and bake a few things, for example), to embark on outings by myself (I frequently visited the Kimbell, attended Fort Worth Symphony performances, and went to Central Market alone), and, overall, to feel more confident in my abilities, as I previously had little faith in my power to perform many tasks.
While many may never live alone during their lifetime, I do want to challenge everyone, especially those in college, to challenge themselves to at least do more things by themselves. You don’t have to do anything large — you could simply go to the grocery store or the gym (this is one I often hear people struggle with) by yourself — but the important thing is that you just try it. It will likely feel very uncomfortable at first, but those are just growing pains that you will overcome in time. The reason I say this is because so many people say that they struggle with doing most things by themselves, and although there is nothing inherently wrong with this — of course, it’s a natural impulse to long for community and closeness — but I do believe it can become crippling and result in many consequences if not checked. For instance, if you cannot identify yourself outside of a group, you will struggle to know or understand yourself except in relation to others, meaning that your personality, your interests, and your actions will be inextricably linked to those around you. This difficulty can, of course, prove quite pernicious in personal relationships and cause a lack of personal fulfillment, amongst other problems. However, you shouldn’t tip the scale too far or for too long in favor of the opposite tendency, as that would be equally harmful, but it seems, especially with the advent of the internet and social media, that many have lost the ability to be by themselves, to enjoy or even just endure quiet, and to reflect upon one’s own thoughts and feelings, which are necessary abilities. Viewing this current trend of dependency, I believe that finding a balance (learning to do things by oneself while remaining close and connected to others) is a crucial endeavor, which living alone for a year has helped me to better understand.