HEAR YOURSELF OUT!
My friends and I were playing a game called “We’re Not Really Strangers” the other day, and one question popped up: “How are you really?” All of us had to share our thoughts and answers out loud, but the room was covered with a blanket of silence. Some of us squirmed in our seats a bit, some exchanged glances and giggles, while the others fixated their gaze on a point, probably trying to avoid going “too deep” into the question. I, on the other hand, realized that our discomfort with the awkward silence signaled how we truly were: unwilling to talk to ourselves or process the silence within.
While asking deep questions like these to ourselves might seem intimidating, I’ve come to terms with the fact that, as much as I talk to my friends, I should start talking to myself too. Anytime I have the chance to process the silence around me, I either blast music on my headphones, doomscroll, or stress about the future. We’ve become so reliant on other sources to fill small voids that being alone has become synonymous with “loneliness,” and that frightens us.
Even though Shakespearean literature is way out of my league, one line of his has always stuck with me: “To thine own self be true.” As corny as it might sound, admitting something to yourself is better than trying to convince yourself of something that isn’t true. It might take courage, but in the long run, it’s far less emotionally draining and far more rewarding. It’s like doing a book review: what you liked about it, what you didn’t, where the plot could have been improved, which characteristics caught your eye, and what caught you off guard. Except the book is nothing but your story, and instead of just commenting, you can edit and improve it!
That’s where being comfortable with your own silences comes in. Silence doesn’t have to feel awkward or lonely; it can simply be space. Space to notice what you’re feeling without rushing to distract yourself, space to sit with your thoughts without immediately reaching for your phone. Somewhere along the way, we started treating being alone as something to fear, when really, it’s one of the most honest places to be.
One of the easiest ways I’ve learned to get comfortable with myself is by doing small things alone, intentionally. Going out for coffee by myself, for example. No headphones, no scrolling, just me and my drink. At first, it feels uncomfortable, like you should be doing something to justify your presence. But slowly, that discomfort fades. You realize you don’t need to look busy or interesting. You’re allowed to just exist.
Being comfortable with yourself doesn’t always lead to deep realizations. Sometimes your thoughts are messy or uneventful, and that’s okay. Comfort isn’t about constant growth, it’s about acceptance. It’s taking a quiet walk, journaling without judgment, or sitting in silence without needing to fill it. When you stop fearing your own silence, you stop running from yourself. And in that quiet, you might finally hear what you’ve been avoiding all along.