Homecoming, which just took place, is all about school spirit, community, and connections. That said, I found it funny that I walked into the Bounce House ready to yell “U-C-F KNIGHTS” completely alone, with no plan to sit by anyone I knew. It wasn’t anyone’s fault (except maybe mine…I didn’t text anyone more than an hour before the game). Some friends were already inside, where cell service is nonexistent on a good day, while others were packed into sections with no room to spare.
Still, I scanned the rows of people and sat down next to a group of girls who were not interested in a conversation. I’ll admit, I felt like I had a million eyes on my back, staring at this lonely girl; even though I knew people were more focused on the scoreboard. Before the first quarter was over, I raced down the stairs and considered leaving. At the gate, I remembered that I wasn’t really there alone. I was there to support the athletes and support my school. I did not put on this outfit to watch UCF take on the Cougars from the comforts of my dorm (I had a good feeling about the game, too).
Back I went up to the student section. I climbed to the very middle of the back rows and asked a group of girls, “Hey, can I sit with y’all?” They said yes before I finished the sentence. What a blessing! We yapped through the whole first quarter and well into the second, and somewhere in there I got braver. I turned around, spotted a group of guys wearing helmets that looked like they belonged in a galaxy far, far away, and started making conversation with them too.
At halftime, I left to find a sister of mine, who had just been left alone when her friends wandered off. We spent the rest of the game side by side, though that didn’t stop either of us from making friends. We shared feelings with strangers over every stressful drive and referee call. One of them even recorded some great videos for me, since my phone was dead (we’re now acquaintances turned friends over a shared taste in music). By the final whistle, the stadium felt much smaller than it had at kickoff, and I understood what homecoming is really about: connecting with a community when you least expect it.
The Big Why
If walking into an event alone feels like stepping onto a stage, research can explain why. Psychologists Rebecca Ratner and Rebecca Hamilton studied this feeling in “Inhibited About Bowling Alone,” published in the Journal of Consumer Research. They found that people consistently underestimate how much they will enjoy going alone to things like a museum, a show, or a restaurant. It has nothing to do with the activity itself; it’s self-consciousness. In another article, Ratner states, “you’re foregoing a lot of fun,” with a nervous mindset.
The good news is that this specific fear is based on a bit of an illusion.
One of the points Ratner brings up is the spotlight effect, which shows that “people pay less attention to us than we think.”
The girls who ignored me in the first quarter weren’t judging me. They were watching the game. Almost everyone at an event is wrapped up in their own experience, and almost nobody is keeping track of who came with whom. Another tiny tidbit the article introduced me to was the idea that people are much more willing to go alone when the activity is a learning experience. That brings me to Zoe.
From Belay to Buddies
I met Zoe last spring, and I never expected to. It was a Friday night; I had no homework due, and I was longing to do something. So, I headed to the rock climbing wall at the RWC, only to find out that it was closing for a belay certification class, which teaches you how to manage the rope to protect a climber, and the staff invited me to join.
I had never climbed there before, and I had no friends to go with, but it looked fun, and people were always there. My first thought was “maybe I should get more work done for next week.” However, going back to being alone in my dorm was still not very appealing at the time. So, I stayed.
Zoe and I were the only two girls there, which soon led to us talking about girl power and planning how we’d finish our belay tests. We were certified less than a week later. After that, we kept practicing and ended up going to the free events at the student union together. All of it happened because I tried something new by myself.
You’re Not Alone
When I go to events with my friends, I mostly talk to them. I love my friends, and I love spending time with them, but we carry our own conversations and inside jokes everywhere, so we never branch out. Going alone takes that comfortable conversation away, which is exactly the point. It pushes you toward people outside your major, outside your club, and outside the circle you would have chosen on your own.
Too often, we rely on finding people in our classes and clubs. That is wonderful, and those friendships matter. But they are also convenient, and some of the best friendships live beyond what’s convenient. Going alone teaches confidence the way miles teach a runner. Every “Hey, can I sit with y’all?” is one more rep. By the third group of strangers at homecoming, I wasn’t nervous anymore, just curious about what they thought of the game so far.
I won’t pretend this has always come easily. Though my friend Madi likes to say “Social anxiety fears Daisy,” and skeptics watch me talk to just about anyone (brick walls included) and assume I was born with this skill. I wasn’t. Even now, it isn’t always like that. I still get nervous speaking up in class. What I’ve learned is that it all starts with confidence in yourself and in your words, and then you practice; one conversation at a time.
The funny thing about going alone is that you’re never really alone. “Solo” only describes how you arrive. The people who made my homecoming fun weren’t friends I had before the game. They were people I met because I had no one to hide behind, and I’m so grateful I didn’t hide.
At the end of the day, you don’t live by sitting in your dorm or your apartment. Get outside. Take a walk. And if your feet happen to lead you to an event, just try.