Days 85-87: Loneliness in the Burbs

After experiencing an allergic reaction the night before, I slept in and took my time getting ready. I searched for things to do and attempted to go to two different places, but they were both closed when I arrived. I went to Wal-Mart to get some Benadryl and then cooked some food.

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It was pouring rain and I was extremely bored. I watched TV, something I hadn’t really done in the last few months. After awhile, I paced around wondering what I could do. Maybe it was the rain, maybe it was being in the suburbs, or maybe it’s just me.

Even as a kid, I would get so bored in the summer when school was out of session. I would whine around the house complaining there was nothing to do. My poor mom would suggest cleaning my room, which I rejected.

Sometimes the feeling of boredom is so powerful, I feel like I’ll lose my mind. If my mind is not stimulated in some way, it feels like torture. I watched TV, looked outside at the rain, cleaned out my email, and wondered what else I could do. The clock ticked painfully away as I stared at it. I could have been writing, but I didn’t feel like it. I purposely wanted to spend a week there so I could relax. Maybe I’m not capable of relaxing?

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The next morning I went for a run and it felt good to get some exercise. I was cooking up some breakfast when an old coworker called me asking for some advice on his career. It was good to talk with him and to feel useful again. It made me miss work a little bit and the routine that it brings.  

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Sometimes having so much freedom and free time feels overwhelming. I have to constantly make decisions on how to spend my time. Before, I would get up and go to work. After work, maybe I’d workout, eat dinner, watch some TV and go to bed. Weekends I worked out, cleaned my house, ran errands, and hung out with friends.

Now it often feels like I’m going to make the wrong decision and miss seeing something. Or I worry that I’ll waste the day, so I see what there is to do in whatever city I’m currently in. Having freedom requires constant decision making.

In the late afternoon, I drove to Vancouver and battled horrible traffic for an hour and a half, only to arrive to the Capilano Suspension bridge right before they closed. They recommend that I come back because I wouldn’t have time to see everything. Frustrated, I got back into traffic and headed back to the burbs.

I stopped at Hard Rock casino and gambled. I ended up walking away with a free dinner, entertainment for two hours, and about 20 extra dollars in my pocket.

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The following day, I tried to go to a few historic sites, but the road near the house was closed. I asked the girl directing traffic what was going on. She said they were filming something and the place I was trying to go to was closed for two weeks.

A grade school had just let out and parents were lining up to pick up their kids. It struck me as a world I knew nothing about. I was always at work when schools were letting out and I don’t have children. There are times like this that make me sad that I haven’t experienced that world. A whole life of running kids from school to practice, and making sure homework gets done.

Eventually I made it to a tourist garden where I ate a pastry and had some coffee. After walking around the garden for awhile, I drove to Mill lake. The lake had a great walking path all around it and it was a beautiful, rain-free day.

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I walked all the way around the lake as three women in workout clothes power walked, a couple held hands, two men at a picnic table read bibles, and a young couple kissed at the end of the pier.

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There were tables with men playing cards, a group of middle-school aged kids hanging out, and two older women passing me saying, “Nothing can damage me. It can hurt me, but it can’t damage me.”

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As I rounded the last part of the lake, a girl in her early 20s was pushing a stroller while frantic on the phone, “Alia put her finger into a mushroom and then into her mouth. Do you think she’ll be ok? Well, the inside was squishy.”

I drove back to the house feeling rejected. I was supposed to hang out with Ian that evening and he messaged me saying he was going to the gym after work and wouldn’t have time. I know we weren’t dating, but I was angry that I had reserved time for him and he brushed me off.

I was feeling incredibly rejected and lonely – the feeling of not being good enough for someone to choose me over working out. The feeling of not being a priority to anybody.

My friend Debbie called me that evening for our weekly FaceTime call. She asked how I was doing and I couldn’t pretend. I broke down sobbing, telling her how rejected I felt. She was so patient and understanding. She told me how she understands and life is not easy to go through without a partner.

I got more frustrated when I realized even though I’m an independent person, I still long for a partner. I end up letting guys like Ian make me feel unwanted and rejected. I hate that I let them have power over me. I don’t want my self-worth to be tied to someone else. It’s a pattern I continually fall into.

Through the snot and tears, Debbie helped me understand I’m not alone and I have a lot to offer someone. She assured me that lots of people struggle with not having a partner and things will get better.

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After I got off the phone, I went to a local restaurant and sat at the bar. I ordered a glass of wine and an appetizer. The place was mostly empty and I read articles on my phone about how betrayal in your relationship leaves you scarred for awhile. One website stated, “Suddenly the rug has been pulled out from under your feet, leaving an incredible sense of loss and bewilderment behind as you become companion-less.”

Maybe it’s not just me. Maybe the betrayal in my marriage and the aftermath it causes takes awhile to move past. I went to bed and prayed that the loneliness would go away.

Post Edited By: Mandy Strider
Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment if you have any questions!

Day 62: Sadness in Anchorage

I checked into my Airbnb around 10:00 pm and followed the directions to get inside. I climbed the stairs outside and took my shoes off at the landing. The house had three stories: the top floor where the owners live, the lower level with two bedrooms and a shared bathroom, and the basement level floor with two more rented rooms and a shared bathroom.

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I got settled into my room and went to sleep feeling happy and content. The few days prior to arriving in Anchorage were wonderful, fun, encouraging, and beautiful. They were also tiring. I didn’t get much sleep and I was starting to get a cold. I took some cold medicine and tried to let myself sleep in the next day, but I still woke up after about seven hours. I laid around and got some things done like writing reviews of my recent Airbnb stays.

After a few hours, I headed to Target to do some shopping. I talked with my sister while sipping on my Starbucks latte. For the first time in a long time, it felt like a regular day that I would have experienced before I started traveling.

After Target, I headed to Subway to grab a sandwich. The music playing was a country song I had heard many times on the radio station in Fairbanks. It goes “sunrise, sunburn, sunset, repeat.” It was so noticeable to me because you never hear country music playing in Los Angeles. But I had heard this song so much in the last week, I actually recognized it.

I got back to my room at the Airbnb, ate, and watched Like Father on my iPad mini. A guy I had matched with on Tinder messaged me and asked if I like to watch volleyball because there was a game that night and the following night at the University (my profile mentions volleyball). I asked what time the games were and he said 7:30 pm. I thought about it for awhile because I needed to pay bills and catch up on some work, like writing. I finally showered and messaged him around 6:30 pm asking if he still wanted to go to the game that night. He wrote back around 7:15 pm saying “Oh, I’m sorry Christy! I was just telling you about the game. I came over to my buddies to help him move.” He continued to message, trying to get to know me.

What the heck?! Who does that? I felt like an idiot for thinking he was asking me out. My face literally got flush with embarrassment. But then I got irritated wondering why he would ask me if I liked watching volleyball and then give me the details as far as days and times, but not actually ask me out. That’s pretty crappy. I didn’t respond to his other messages.

My parents called and I talked with them for awhile about their current trip in Colorado. I briefly mentioned that I was on a dating site. My dad started into a rant about what I need to look for in men worth marrying. This really frustrated me. I told my dad I do not plan on getting married again. It cost me significantly, both emotionally and financially, to get out of my marriage. Nobody can ensure their partner will actually be a decent person for decades. My dad was not happy about this and the whole conversation left me feeling incredibly judged and alone.

I want a life partner. I want someone who loves me for me. Not for the person they think I am or for the person they wish I was. I want someone who sees me. My ex-husband never saw me. He didn’t notice anything about me. He didn’t love me. I want someone who actually remembers things about me, asks about my day, asks about things that make me who I am.

I was feeling incredibly lonely. Not just lonely, but completely alone. It’s the feeling that I am not “number one” to anybody. Not a single person in this world puts me first. I am nobody’s “person.” Friends, family – they all have a number one. I am not it. I am somewhere on the list, but will never be number one. There was a pain in my heart knowing I was down on every single list.

I felt sad. And then I felt frustrated. I don’t want to get married again and people can’t seem to understand that, especially my parents. I do want a partner. But there are no guarantees in life. If that person is not who they led me to believe or they change drastically into a terrible person, I want the freedom to get out easily without losing all of my money.

Marriage is one thing in life you cannot control. You can work so hard, do all the right things, and it can still fail. You cannot force your partner to invest in the relationship, and if they don’t, you have two choices. Your first choice is to stay in the marriage, unhappily and hope it gets better. A lot of people do this. I see people all the time who are unhappily married. Your second option is to get a divorce. That’s it. There is not a third option.

This is a bad deal in my eyes. I feel that when people are married, they know they can slack off and their spouse will not divorce them for little things like forgetting a birthday or not helping out around the house. The thing is, all those little things add up. That’s what makes or breaks a relationship. If you’re just dating, people know it’s easier for their partner to end it so they’re more likely to keep investing and be a good partner. Because if not, your partner could easily end it. But with marriage, there’s no such thing as an easy ending.

I was frustrated with the fact that I could have a few amazing days and suddenly feel so sad and lonely. My Myers Briggs personality says my personality type is the type most at home in a relationship and always looking for that life-long partner. It feels like a curse. I am independent and I would rather be alone than be with the wrong person. But yet, I still want that partnership. I want the love, the intimacy, and the adventure. And I don’t have it.

Post Edited By: Mandy Strider
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Day 39: Feeling Vulnerable on a Hike

During the bike tour, the guide recommended a few hikes in the area that I wanted to try. I was already staying on the side of a mountain in West Vancouver, so the drive would be an easy 15 minutes to the trail head.

That morning, I finished up a blog post about how I had felt on day 5: depressed. I was nervous about posting it because it was so raw. The beginning of my trip was not easy. I experienced a tremendous amount of change in a very short period of time and had a hard time figuring out my new normal.

I uploaded the blog post and left for the hike around 4:00 pm. When I arrived at Eagle Bluff Trail, the Olympic rings were still on display from 2010. There was a vacant ski lift, swaying in the cool summer breeze. The clearing of trees showed the runs that skiers traversed the hills during the winter months.

The total trail was just under six miles and 1,500 ft elevation gain. Large rocks quickly appeared on the dirt trail, making the incline a little more difficult. I passed several ponds and lakes.

The green trees against the bright blue sky reminded me of why I wanted to go to the Pacific Northwest so badly. After being in the California drought for more than a decade, it was what I needed. I could feel life growing in the forest.

Continuing to climb, the trail turned into roots from the towering trees above. They provided great shade, but were definitely trip hazards. A fellow hiker tripped on a root when she looked up to see me and fell. The guy with her and I made sure she was ok and they continued on.

Starting the trail, I didn’t have cell service. As I continued to climb, cell service would sporadically appear and a text message would come through – messages of concern from friends and family. Then the Facebook notifications appeared. Words of encouragement after reading my blog post on depression.

I started to panic and thought, “Why did I post that? I shouldn’t have written about it.” I felt embarrassed and exposed as I thought about all of the people who I’m connected with on Facebook – old coworkers, family, friends, and neighbors. I desperately wanted to take down the post but didn’t have much cell service. The entire climb up, I worried about that post and how it would make me look: weak.

When I arrived at the top of the mountain, there were a few people taking pictures and enjoying the view. I found a large rock to sit on, eat a powerbar, and admire the view. It was incredible!

Looking to the west, I could see mountains surrounded by the ocean. To the south was the ocean with some smoke in the background from a fire burning in the bog. To the southeast was the city of Vancouver. With 180 degree, the views didn’t stop.

I sat in awe and reminded myself that the reason I’m blogging about my trip is because I want people to experience what I’m experiencing. Sometimes it’s lonely, scary, and confusing. I was determined not to be afraid of revealing who I really am. I’ve spent so much of my life trying to please others and to be “good enough.”

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I believe God created each of us to be unique and I think he delights in who we are. I try my best to follow the path God has set for me. But society, parents, the workplace, friends, the church, and strangers all have expectations of who we should be. After trying to get the approval of all of these people, I finally broke. It was exhausting and left me feeling alone. Over the last few months, I decided to be me. I have to keep reminding myself of this as it doesn’t come naturally. I’m a people pleaser and I hate disappointing people. I decided I would leave the post up.

The climb was worth the view. A chipmunk attempted to get into my backpack several times and I had to keep scaring him away. I headed back down the mountain so I would finish before dark. On my way back down, I took a wrong turn and ended up at the top of the ski lift. I saw two very fit and attractive guys who looked to be in their late 20s taking photos. One guy had his shirt off, while the other took pictures. They also had a small dog with them. I couldn’t help but laugh in my head. Hopefully the pictures were for something legitimate, but I wondered if they were for his Tinder profile.

When I walked around the ski lift area, the bugs started to attack and they seemed to love my ears. The buzzing sound would make me scream every time. The guys I had seen a few minutes earlier showed up and asked if I knew where the trail was to get back down. I told them I think we made a wrong turn and it was back up the other way. Of course, a bug flew near my ear and I screamed, looking like a maniac.

The guys started heading down the rocky path. I went back to the trail and headed towards where I thought it diverged. I ran into a group of four young, attractive people in their 20s. One of the girls asked me for directions and I showed her on my map where they needed to go. I asked if they were heading to the top because it was getting pretty late. They said they were heading to the top to watch the fireworks.

My bike tour guide told me about the fireworks. It was their annual firework competition. Sweden was going to display their best fireworks by setting them off from a barge in the water. The previous Saturday, South Africa showcased their fireworks and the final show would be the following Saturday with South Korea.

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I didn’t want to hike down in the dark after the fireworks. Plus, I had a great view of the harbor from my Airbnb. I continued to the bottom and made it my car around 9:00 pm. When I got back to the Airbnb, I realized I didn’t have any food. I used Yelp to find a place, but most places didn’t deliver to West Vancouver.

I called a pizza place in West Vancouver and asked if they’d deliver. The man who answered was annoyed and said he would not deliver because they closed at 10:00 pm and he’s really busy. I said it was only 9:20 pm but I could come pick it up. After arguing with him, and having to call him back, he took my order and said, “If you’re not here to pick it up in 15 minutes, I’m closing up and you won’t be able to pick it up”. Dang.

I hurried there and picked up my pizza. They were not busy and I’m guessing he just wanted to close early to see the fireworks. I took my pizza back to the Airbnb and ate in the large dining room that overlooked the harbor. I sat in the dark so I could see the fireworks better. For 30 minutes, Sweden showed off their best fireworks in a stunning show.

I read through the messages, comments, texts, and emails that people had sent me about my blog post. Even though I still felt embarrassed, it felt good to know so many people could relate to my struggle and were there to encourage me when I needed it. I’m not alone. To date, that’s one of my most read posts.

Post Edited by: Mandy Strider

 

Day 5: Depression in Roseburg, Oregon

The Airbnb owner, Victoria, had recommended that I check out this wildlife Safari nearby where animals roam, you can drive your car through, and the animals walk right up to your car. I arrived around 11:30am and was told it takes about an hour and a half to drive through. I also signed up for three expeditions: meeting the elephants, feeding the giraffe, and feeding the lions.

First, I drove through the park with my windows down. It was really neat to see animals roaming freely with the breeze rushing by. I was able to see all sorts of animals like zebras, bears, deer, buffalo, and ostriches. I fed deer through my car window after I purchased a cup of food for $5. The buffalo walked right up to my car, so much that I had to roll up my window.

After driving through the park, I ate in the café while I waited for my first expedition to start – meeting the elephants.  All throughout the day, feelings of sadness came and went. As I drove through the park, it seemed better because I tried very hard to enjoy the animals and the experience. But sitting alone in that café started to get to me. There weren’t many people there because it was already close to 2:00pm. I was sitting at a large, round table that could seat six people. I was in the corner, looking out the window. I felt so alone as I ate my burger, seeing all the families and couples. I felt the tears welling up in my eyes and had to tell myself, “Get it together, Christy. You cannot cry while eating a burger in public. You’re at a really cool safari, enjoy it!”

After eating my burger, I rode in a bus down the hill to meet the elephants. There were lots of people and we were able to take a photo and touch an elephant’s trunk. After that, I went in an open-top bus to go feed the giraffes. This was really cool! We were able to hold out a piece of lettuce and the giraffe would poke his head inside and eat it right from our hands. This was a good distraction and for a brief period of time, I felt better.

The excursion for watching the lions feed wasn’t until 4:45pm and they were running late. I was sitting outside at the entrance, waiting for the tour guide to show up. I received a call from my doctor so I stepped away, down the sidewalk a bit. I had sent her an email earlier that day asking if any of the medications I was on had side effects because I was feeling extremely depressed and had been for days. I was on a few medications, trying to kill off some bacteria.

My doctor asked what was going on and I told her, “I’ve been feeling very depressed. Very depressed. I’m not usually like this. I’m usually the happy one. I’m usually the one who sees the good in things. I know I’m going through a lot of change right now but this feels extreme.” My doctor knew I had sold my house, quit my job, and was traveling. She said she knew I was going through a lot and asked more questions. I started to choke up and cry and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop the tears.

She asked if I had any thoughts of hurting myself. I grew up with family members who struggled with depression and threatened suicide many times. When I was around eleven, my older brother was sent to the state hospital for threats of suicide. I remember seeing his pain and then seeing the look of terror when he spent 10 days in the facility. He was terrified being around mentally unstable people and pleaded with my mom to let him out as he sobbed in her arms. I know the answer to my doctor’s question is always “no” unless you want to be locked up so I said “no” through the tears.

My doctor told me there were two medications I was on that could possibly be causing depression. It usually manifests into anxiety but could be causing (or at least contributing to) depression so she told me to stop taking them.

I felt embarrassed that I couldn’t control my emotions. Embarrassed that I was crying in a parking lot at a safari, where I should be enjoying myself. Embarrassed that I needed help.

I ended the call and shortly after, the lion feeding expedition began. I got myself together and it was just me and a couple. We walked down and saw one of the most powerful things I’ve ever seen. Six or seven lions feeding on their dinner (parts of a horse) within about a foot, through cages. Their power is incredible. One lion looked up from his dinner and made eye contact with me, slightly lunged towards me, and gave a slight roar. I was paralyzed by his power and a shot of adrenaline rushed through my body.

After the safari, I went to a park near the Airbnb and ate some fruit. I sat at a table in the sun, with nobody around. I was exhausted and needed someone to talk to so I went back to the Airbnb and called my cousin, Misty. All of the depression hit me. I sobbed on the phone and told her how alone I felt, how the depression was crushing me. She listened and tried to help me see all the wonderful things going on in my life. And how things will get better. I kept telling her things won’t get better. I couldn’t see the light and couldn’t climb out of the depression. It was a dark hole. I didn’t feel like myself. My energy was off.

A few weeks earlier, Kate Spade and Anthony Bourdain committed suicide. I remember the shock of everyone as they seemed to have everything. A friend of mine, Dave Kooi, wrote a great piece on Facebook about the tragedy of people who seem to have everything we all want, but choose to end it all. He said the problem is we over-use the word “depressed”. He described all the scenarios we use it, like “I’m depressed about the cubs”, “I’m depressed a triathlon was canceled due to fires”. Because of this, the word “depression” can mean many different things.

Dave suggested we call this deep depression the Bourdain Syndrome and said “Because apparently it’s a condition in which you can be the coolest and most interesting man in the world – charismatic, talented, admired, charming, attractive – and have a life that everybody wants – yet still be dying on the inside. That’s a pretty awful and powerful condition. A brain turning on itself. And it’s a condition that’s certainly not on the happy-sad continuum. That should be clear enough now. It has nothing to do with that. It’s in a league of its own.”

I agree with Dave. I’ve had many friends and family members struggle with depression and there is no easy solution. I’ve known people who have committed suicide and threatened to commit suicide. It’s something much deeper than being sad. Prior to the last two years, I hadn’t struggled with depression, not much anyway. I am usually a light-hearted, happy person. Friends and strangers tell me this all the time. My energy is usually open, friendly, and fun.

Feeling this incredible darkness made me unable to feel anything else. I hated that I couldn’t stop it, that I couldn’t fix it. I hated not being in control. I felt alone, deeply alone. I couldn’t see a future where it would get better. It made me feel even worse knowing that I should be happy. I was living the dream, my dream, my “best life”. I was doing what most people dream about – I quit my job and was able to spend a long time traveling, just living and experiencing the world. Knowing I was expected to be unbelievably happy made me feel worse.

I never felt regretful of my decisions. It wasn’t that. It was a feeling of being unwanted, unloved, and alone. Misty kept reminding me that I had people who love me and it would get better. But I couldn’t stop sobbing. I wanted to feel like myself again. I was happy that the AC unit was loud and prayed that the owners of the Airbnb couldn’t hear me.

I got off the phone with Misty and wrote. I needed to post on my blog so I wrote the first post titled “Why am I doing this?”. It helped me to start writing. For me, writing has a way of helping me express what I’m feeling. Sometimes I struggle verbalizing my feelings and writing allows me to get it out without having to verbalize it. I went to bed and prayed to God that he would take away these feelings – to make me whole again.

Post Edited by: Misty Kosek

Day 4: Alone in Roseburg, Oregon

The drive from Klamath Falls to Roseburg took around three hours and winded through the tree-filled mountains. There were barely any cars on the road so I was able to drive in peace, not worrying that I was driving too slow around the corners and hills.

I stopped at a gas station in the middle of nowhere and a guy came running out to pump my gas. This was the strangest thing to experience in Oregon. It’s against the law to pump your own gas. I felt so awkward handing him my credit card and just hanging out while he started to pump my gas so I ran to the restroom.

I arrived in Roseburg, OR (population 22,000) around 4:00pm. I was staying at an Airbnb in a historic house built in 1890. The hosts were a lesbian couple in their 50’s-60’s and they rent the two bedrooms on the top floor. There was a bathroom upstairs between the two rooms but the shower was downstairs. I arrived and met Victoria, who was a cheerful woman with short grey curly hair. She was friendly and showed me around a little.

We had to walk through the living room to get to the stairs, which was closed off by a wooden sliding door. We walked up the old, creaky stairs and down the hallway with a railing overlooking the stairs. My room was on the left and had slanted ceilings since it was more like the attic. The room was large and I helped Victoria put on clean sheets. There was a coffee pot, an AC unit in the window, two closets, and a little table with two chairs.

As I brought in my largest suitcase first, Victoria’s partner said “Wow, that’s a large suitcase”. Embarrassed, I tried my best to carry it up the narrow stairway without bumping into the walls. I still hadn’t sorted through my luggage, so it took around four trips again to carry it all up.

I turned on the AC since all the luggage had made me sweat and I opened up my Coffee Meets Bagel dating app. I had been on the app the year before for a few months but deactivated my account 6 months prior because it was making me feel bad about myself. Guys would connect with me and either not communicate at all or would chit-chat through the app for a couple of days and disappear. Now that I was traveling and feeling lonely, I decided that maybe I could meet someone along my travels. At the very least, it could be an adventure. I had set my location to Portland, OR hoping that there would be more people there and I’d be there in about a week.

I was pleasantly surprised by the matches and the number of guys who had “liked” me. I was always told dating in Los Angeles is terrible and it’s true. You see, guys are surrounded by beautiful models and actresses. Their standards for perfection are ridiculous and they always think there must be someone even better out there. Last year, Coffee Meets Bagel listed four cities with top awards, like ‘’the chattiest city” and “the friendliest city”. Los Angeles received the “pickiest city” award. Literally. More people passed on profiles than any other city. The city of models got passed on the most. The perception that “there’s always someone better” is strong and alive in Los Angeles.

Back to my Portland picks. I connected with a few guys and was hopeful that maybe I could meet someone. Then it was time to get dinner. Victoria gave me a few recommendations and I chose a Greek restaurant. I was seated near the kitchen and noticed a large family group of about 15 people in the middle of the restaurant. To the sides of the room were two males, sitting alone. Once again, I get strange looks since I’m always the only female eating alone.

It’s funny because when I was in college, I once went to a Denny’s alone late at night. This was in a small town in Missouri in 1999. I was terrified going in alone but I wanted somewhere to journal and get a quick bit to eat. I had to give myself a pep talk before convincing myself it was ok to go in alone. It went something like this, “You can do this. Nobody will even notice you. Why do we live in a society that makes it socially unacceptable to eat alone at a restaurant? We need to break this perception. It’s fine. You can do this.” No joke, I literally pumped myself up in the car and finally worked up the courage to go inside.

When I was 23 and had just moved to California, I wanted to go see a movie but I had nobody to go with me. I had to do a similar pump-up conversation about how it’s ridiculous that we can’t feel comfortable going to a movie alone. I sat in the theater, waiting for it to begin, desperately hoping the movie would start soon because I felt so exposed sitting alone with the lights on. This was before smart phones, so there was nothing to distract me. I was so embarrassed that I would keep looking at my phone to “see if I got a message from my friend about where I was sitting” and would look at people coming in the theater. You know, to “see if my friend would see where I’m sitting”. It was very hard to sit there, alone, as groups of friends filled the theater. Then the movie started and the theater got dark, which made me forget I was alone.

Last year I traveled to Scandinavia by myself and felt completely comfortable eating alone, doing tours alone, and discovering new things alone. I actually came to love it. I could do what I wanted, when I wanted. I didn’t feel embarrassed most of the time (no need for pep talks) but that was partly because it was overseas. For some reason, it felt easier since obviously I would never see those people again. And Scandinavia felt more cosmopolitan and open to things like women traveling alone.

In the United States, I still sometimes struggle being alone. I don’t need pep talks because I focus more on the enjoyment of what I’m partaking in. But sometimes I feel like people are staring at me, or I get bored not being able to have a conversation with someone. But overall, it’s freeing to do things on your own. If you’re on the fence, I encourage you to try it. Even if you need to give yourself a pep talk.

Post Edited by: Misty Kosek