Before college, I thought a lot about what it’d feel like to be alone. I imagined empty spaces: solo walks to class, lectures for hundreds of students with no one seated beside me, eating at a table meant for four but only my plate in sight. I’d spent years surrounded by the familiarity of a small school, the same set of friends, and the comfort of knowing exactly where I belonged. The idea of starting fresh in a place where no one knew me was intimidating and the fear of being left out loomed over me.
My first week on campus was a blur of orientations, icebreakers, and introductions I barely remember. People were everywhere, yet everyone was still searching for someone new to befriend. I wondered if I should feel lonely. I wondered if I should be anxious about not immediately finding “my people.” I imagined college to be a place of instant connections that felt as effortless as those I’d shared in high school.
Instead, I felt a quiet, lingering sense of self-reliance settle in that I realized I’d never experienced before. I wasn’t surrounded by the same people I’d known for years, but I didn’t feel the weight of that loss in the way I’d expected. It was almost as if I was standing on my own for the first time without the crutches of familiar faces to hold me up.
I used to think solitude was synonymous with loneliness, but, so far, college has taught me otherwise.
I’ve been going on cafe dates alone, taking walks around campus with no destination, and reading on the glade between classes. Either I’m maturing or it’s the INTJ in me, but not relying on the presence of others to feel complete has lifted this pressure off my shoulders. I no longer feel like I have to constantly be social during a period where social interaction and gatherings are the norm in our day-to-day lives.
There’s a certain kind of freedom in simply being alone, not because I’m avoiding people, but because I’m allowed to be present with myself. I don’t need a crowd to validate my experiences and I’m starting to learn that my own company is more than enough.
Being alone doesn’t mean being lonely. Rather, I’m beginning to understand myself and grant myself space to grow in ways that company never allowed.