I've been thinking a lot lately about being alone. Singleism. Being back in my own company. Dining alone, taking walks alone, beneath the comforts of my bed...alone. Sans boy or lover. And I think back to what got me into this very intense place I'm in. That memory is still clear - far clearer than the weather that morning, that's for sure.
I've bowed down to your emotional commands - the fact that you want respect for the way you think (although I wanted that too). That every time there had been an issue between us or albeit, a minor disagreement, it was always me. The fact that we argued over and over, from opposing political viewpoints, that you cannot tell me what I'll do with my body (because I'm Woman, so hear me roar). I'll never forget those words during the last five minutes before I got out of your car and we were about to cut each other off for the umpteenth time again: "I love you, but there's so much wrong with you. You need to change."
Right, I needed to change...my relationship status. And stop limiting myself to an ego-fused mind that said it was "...always [you], never [me]." Cue the end of that..thing. Whatever it was. A lesson to be sure.
Being alone is different than being lonely, of course. Being lonely is a state of mind; a perspective where one feels they don't have any company or companionship. Or maybe they feel that they're misunderstood, unloved, not worthy...the list can go on, but it comes down to one insane idea: believing that you are not worthy. Or that you are unloved. And that reflects the signal to dive back into you and your own arms. Yeah, I'm getting at self-love over here. You're the only person you've got at the end of the day, regardless of what happens or who happens to you. And it seems that's forgotten when we're tied up and comfortable in the arms and bodies and mindset's of someone else we spend a ton of time with.
I can't tell you a time or a place or a person who had loved me so much, and that I felt that validation last forever, when I could have just found the validation within myself. External circumstances only bring us temporary happiness - whether it's the entire bottle of rose, purchasing those Swarovski-studded heels, or finding it in another person. I've always shuddered when people tell me that their significant other "completes them," almost like they don't know who'd they be without that other one in their lifetime.
But who are you when that person is gone? Who are you, at your very core, when no one or thing is around you, no phone or media to distract you? I feel like that's where find ourselves. If we're completely alone once again, and the silence scares us, there's work to do. Personally, I've always found my alone time to be precious and essential, often giving it away too much to those who I thought I had to spend time with them, because otherwise I'd lose them.
Learn to be your own person. We come into this world born alone; sometimes we are around people. And in some cases, we're not. We die alone. Of course, companionship and company is necessary for comfort and warmth, too. The same goes with the importance of physical touch and socialization. What I'm getting at, though, is emotional codependency doesn't lead down an ideal road to well-being.
Take your time. Read books on whatever you want. Start paying attention to the nudges that'll get you back into being yourself (hint: these are often disguised as spontaneous and almost freakish ideas). Get yourself lost or out somewhere. You and yourself should never feel afraid to step out into public alone, to get dressed up and head out to the upscale bar alone (read: I did that once and had one of the best nights of my life). A solid sense of self is the best gift you can give to you - and that's the healthiest relationship you can have.
Published by Dani Savka