In defence of solitude
Let’s get this one thing straight. There’s nothing wrong with being alone. There’s nothing wrong with being seen alone that is, because, let’s be honest, it’s often the opinions of others that prevent us from truly savouring solitude. And there is a distinct difference between positive solitude, a wholesome content state, and loneliness as a state of depletion and disconnection.
I’ll be the first to admit that I used to dread being seen alone, particularly in public. Some of these fears still haunt me a little but these days they are more like pale shadows at the periphery of my perception. It’s something that makes me chuckle. However there was a time when I felt like I always had to feign some sort of “busyness” about me, as if I am constantly on the cusp of meeting up with someone or I'm engrossed by a book or my phone. You know the feeling? I’d think twice before turning back on myself on the street to retrace my steps for whatever reason, lest I’d appear a woman without a purpose, alone and disoriented. Oh no! What a disaster. How silly it all seems now!
The truth is, I actually quite like being alone, if not all the time, then definitely A LOT of the time. Don’t get me wrong, I need my hit of connection and community. Don’t we all? It’s just that it took me a while to comfortably lean into the solitary moments and accept them and I think societal expectations might have something to do with that.
Nowhere is this more apparent than at literally any given restaurant, in my experience anyway (I guess it serves my purpose, so I’ll go with it). Imagine. It’s dusk and peak dinner time. You are a jovial care-free pedestrian, hungry for adventures, hungry for food. You peer through the inviting windows of a nearby restaurant. How many single customers do you see?
A single customer is less likely to get a table at a restaurant (a restaurant, not a cafe, mind you!). Whether it is a case of them not making the establishment enough money or them avoiding putting a solitary figure that sticks out like a sore thumb out of tactical popularity reasons is a different matter. Afterall nobody wants to sit next to a silent table that eavesdrops on your conversation all night. Whatever the reason, it is a fact of life that a solitary customer is often turned away. Access D-E-N-I-E-D!
As a single woman things get trickier still. If you are alone at a bar, seeking the company of mind-altering substances that you simply cannot otherwise find at home, it seems to be the general assumption of the opposite sex that you are on the lookout for company. This might be an odd generalisation and I’m curious to hear what you think but it seems that it is generally harder for a woman to savour solitude in public, unless of course it is indeed that male company that you simply cannot otherwise find at home that you’re after.
I’ve recently come across the idea of multiplicity (courtesy of the excellent Good Inside book, if you’re curious and a parent or are just curious and a bit weird and like to read books that aren’t relevant to your life), which talks about the way two things can be true. It is a very common sense concept, if you think about it, which basically allows for a more multidimensional mindset and grace. You can be angry but also feel guilty. You can love someone but hurt them. And yes, you can be alone (and even lonelY) but not seeking company, for whatever reason.
I think as a society we need to shift our collective mindset to see solitude as a positive state, a conscious and happy way of being, as opposed to its more negative counterpart - loneliness. In one of her Sunday Letters From Love,
(who I see as nothing other than a modern day shaman-ess, opening up portals to truths we didn't realise we needed) shares:
I think this is probably true for many people, if not when it comes to the idea of being alone, then certainly in relation to our idea of success and our expected trajectories in life. We love to hold onto to certainties because in this big scary world we want to feel in control. Certainties are a comfort to our wandering souls, they are like anchors whose chains we can grab onto for a bit (or for a while) as we spread our vulnerable bodies, starfishing on the turbulent surface of the water of life. Similarly we love to cling to other people, often out of fear of being alone, without really knowing if we’ll even like being alone, without really knowing ourselves.
I am no longer certain about my future. My present is in many ways different to the future I once imagined. But I am certain that solitude can be a positive state, one that in our busy hyper agitated world makes room for valuable conversations with our own self, allows us to reconnect with our own voice and to just be.
I used to dread being alone too but now I see it as the ultimate sign of confidence, defiance even! I love to be that woman alone in a cafe, enjoying her own company, or wandering around an art gallery or bookshop - solitude is COOL. :)