I’ll admit it; I’ve always been somewhat of a recluse. I don’t just mean introvert or homebody, I quite literally mean that I prefer being alone than being around around other people. I’m comfortable in my own silences, thriving in solitude where I find I feel the most calm. I jokingly call myself a hermit to my close friends, and they’d likely agree with me if you asked. Those closest to me, including my family, best friends, and boyfriend, know that my preference of being by myself is not because I’m harboring repressed anger against the world, or that I’m antisocial and inept of holding conversation. I’m not some old, jaded people-hater. It’s just the way I’ve always been: withdrawn, distant, content observing others interact but living mostly inside my head.
I have an active social media presence, but in real life, I prefer to surround myself with a few people at a time– usually people with whom I feel completely safe. Groups aren’t my thing, and neither are parties, huge gatherings of people, or even social kickbacks. I thrive when I’m able to occupy my own space, keeping to myself and exploring the depths of my passions: writing, art, talking to my very small circle of best friends. I’m not the friend who is constantly trying to make plans. I’m better at loving people from afar, and when I’m forced into a situation where I feel like I have to be perceived as a social butterfly, I feel so anxious I could cry. And sometimes I do.
Maybe you’re reading this and you can’t relate at all. You’re bogged down by not being able to see the people you love, frustrated by the restrictions on your personal freedoms, lacking the energy you get from talking to others, of making plans and hanging out in person. That’s okay! This is still an open letter to you. Regardless of whether you’re an extroverted, gregarious person, or someone more like me, I want you to know something. You can be alone but not lonely. It’s possible and it’s easier than you think. Here’s how.
Even for me, being alone can really put a damper on my emotional state. There are times I struggle, feeling isolated and companionless. It’s easy for me to beat myself up for not being like other people, people who can just go out, have a blast, and enjoy the company of others without overthinking and critically analyzing every move they make. I went through a period of time very recently where I found myself feeling ridiculously bogged down by my own solitude. I was perceiving it as abandonment, rejection, and alienation. I don’t know what triggered it, but my love for being alone turned into heavy, unshakable frustration that I couldn’t just be a “normal” college kid. When I stopped to contemplate my feelings, however, I realized that no one had abandoned me. No one had left my side, and the people who mattered to me most in this world were still right there, loving me just as they always have. All of my irrational fear was just the product of my own perception and interpretation, the way I was choosing to see my aloneness.
To all of you struggling to feel a sense of community and togetherness during these strange and uncharted times, know this: right now, you are the furthest thing from alone. Physically, you might be cooped up in a house that you just can’t stand to be in right now, surrounded by people you love but are unintentionally suffocating you. You might be states away from your girls, your guys, or anyone you hold close to your heart. You might be struggling with staying motivated for school, dispassionate about pursuing your passions even though you finally have the time you’ve always needed, or you might just be feeling stuck in a rut that feels endless. Here’s the thing, though. It’s not endless. Even right now, there are good things to be found in solitude.
Social distancing and isolation might feel apocalyptic to you, and it makes perfect sense. We’re social creatures and we are always searching for intimacy in the simplest ways. Take a minute to stop for a moment and assess your closest relationships. There are still Zoom calls, Facetime sessions, Netflix Party nights with friends. We still have family bonding, snail mail, social media challenges, and long phone calls spent laughing for hours and hours. In a way, we are even more connected now than we were before all of this happened. We’re checking up on each other more than we used to. We finally have the time to reach out to people whom we might have accidentally neglected over the years. We’re being present for each other even when we can’t sit next to each other or hold each other. Isn’t that something to rejoice about?
There’s a difference between aloneness and loneliness. To be alone means to be in the company of yourself. To be lonely means to feel like you have no one but yourself. In times like these, we are all alone– all of us temporarily existing in our own little life bubbles– but we don’t have to give into loneliness. Don’t get me wrong; it’s natural to feel miserable. It’s valid; all of our lives got disrupted and we were forced to adapt without much warning. But does loneliness have a hold on you? No. It won’t always be like this forever, and in the meantime, we can use this opportunity to relearn how to love each other better, how to be more intentional, and how to love ourselves with the respect and kindness we all deserve.
Reach out to someone new. That girl you’ve been Insta-stalking for months could be a potential new friend. Shoot your shot with that person in your class who you just cannot stop thinking about. Talk to yourself first, though. Not just small talk– converse deeply with yourself and get to know yourself like you would a potential new date. In fact, date yourself! You’d be surprised to realize that, when you really take the time to contemplate who you are, what your goals and aspirations are, and all of the tiny little aspects of your life that you can be truly and authentically grateful for, life feels a little better, a little more full– even in the here and now.