Coming to college is exciting; you start a new chapter, discover and learn new things, but I never imagined I would feel this alone. When I step out onto campus, I see groups of friends talking, laughing, and studying together. I see couples enjoying a nice meal together, and families enjoying each other’s company. See, the funny thing is, I have most of these things as well. I have close friends I spend time with, from nights out dancing to study sessions. I could not be closer to my family, having the best siblings in the world and parents who care for me. Yet, with all of this, I sit in my dorm bed after long days of academics and socializing and feel alone, feeling this sense that no one could possibly understand everything going on in my life or even me. I don’t know how to be alone.
Growing up, I was never away from my family for more than a second. I was never left alone and always with my siblings. Coming to college was different; for the first time in my life, I felt lonely. I couldn’t get up in the middle of the night and run into my sister’s room or cuddle into my parents’ bed. Everyone called it “homesickness”, but I don’t think you could call it that…because the feeling never left. To cure this feeling of being lonely, I spent time trying to get into relationships, thinking a partner could cure this feeling. Yet, by trying to fix this feeling, I was forcing myself into relationships that weren’t compatible, never quite fulfilling my life, and always ending in a mess. Being lonely was my biggest fear, and maybe sometimes still is; it drove me sick.Â
Sitting by myself, in my own silence, left me feeling scared. Being scared of remembering or thinking about things from my past only made me feel more lonely. Furthermore, when I was having days where I felt like a failure, these times of being lonely made it worse. I am not writing this to tell you how scary it is to be alone, though, but really to tell you how much beauty there can be in being alone.Â
Being alone in my thoughts and in my feelings has taught me a lot about myself. Things that maybe I was afraid to discover at first, things that brought me a feeling of discomfort. Being alone taught me how much I wanted to feel validated in being in relationships. It taught me I still held onto a lot of things from my past, realizing they were weights I had been bearing all along without even knowing. Being alone taught me how much I enjoy writing. Being alone taught me to take time to care for myself. It taught me I wasn’t really alone, even if I felt that way.Â
There was beauty and peace in being in my own stillness and quietness. Quiet wasn’t bad, it wasn’t lonely, or empty, it was full of me in my own presence. I was my best company. In wanting to be around others, I had neglected the most important relationship, the one with myself. I was relearning to love myself, to love the way I cared for myself, from painting my nails to making myself my favorite foods. Remembering how much I enjoyed reading and learning new hobbies. I had made myself believe that I could only do things with others, that doing things by myself was pathetic. I began dating myself again, and I am still learning to accept the stillness of being alone. In reality, being alone wasn’t scary; it was a process of falling in love with myself all over again. I realized I could never really feel good about being alone until I learned to love my own presence, learning to love parts of myself I hadn’t before. I was discovering who I was again, not as a friend, not as a sister, not as a daughter, not as a student, just as me. That is the beauty in being alone: you find yourself, and you don’t let her go.