It really is–easy to be alone; to be with your own company. It’s easy to pick yourself up and pull yourself out. The hard part comes in when you need someone else to be ok with you alone. It’s not terribly acceptable to be alone. You risk judgment, pity, the gaze of strangers wondering why you’re alone. What they don’t seem to realize is I’m thinking the same of them. I know I have myself to depend upon. I know I could go out with others. Sometimes I choose to go out alone. I’m the person next to you writing on her phone; I’m the person you look at and wonder; you’re the people I don’t understand. You wonder how I can be happy alone. I wonder how you can be happy with a group of people that don’t really know you.
Maybe they do. Maybe they do really know you. Maybe they hold your hand when you’re afraid; maybe they are there when you need them and understand when you don’t; maybe they understand you’re a bit strange; maybe they are too, but do you feel you can cry in front of them? Or do you cry alone? Do you have the kind of friends and family in your life that support you when you’re either down or up? Do you understand nobody can help you like you can yourself? I do. So, I know being alone is good for me–looking at what everyone else feels is normal, is not for me. It solidifies that I need to be alone to survive.
I’m a good friend to those that understand some days–most days, I find my greatest strength within myself. And some days, being alone is a blessing. Relying on yourself for your own happiness is difficult–but only when you believe you need someone else to validate your existence. Once you get over that thought–and it comes and goes–sometimes it lasts for years, but once you understand you were really born to be ok with yourself, you’re much better prepared to be with others.
I’m in the midst of overcoming a ridiculous expectation that my happiness hinges on someone else’s opinion of me. The only way to get over it is to realize, once again, that it doesn’t.