G is for Getting Comfortable Being Alone
The truth is I have been avoiding writing this post. The truth is, it is far easier writing about something that happened two and a half years ago than it is writing about something that is happening right now. But here’s the thing I have found thus far in writing this: Everything I have been sharing, even though it’s something I learned from what I went through two years ago, is still incredibly relevant (and helpful) in my journey today. However, it is so much easier writing about the past than it is to write about the present. But, with that said, it is something I want to be open about.
I say it’s hard writing about this because, the truth is—I struggle. I struggle with knowing I am making the right decisions. I struggle with relationships and dating. I struggle with letting people go. And I seriously struggle with being alone, just me. No boyfriend, no potentials, no one I’m even talking to, nada. So this post is about a current struggle for me. G is for “Getting comfortable being alone.”
I sometimes wonder how I’ve gotten here. I do think it to be a combination of things. Personality, combined with our innate desire to want to connect with other human beings, to form meaningful attachments and, hopefully, relationships (yes, the psychology major is coming out here); but it’s also been irrevocably shaped (for better or worse) by the age of technology we live in. Specifically how technology has altered the way in which we communicate with one another; it has created a medium that, in my opinion, has made it easier to communicate while also, unfortunately, making it that much less meaningful when we do so. And yes, I’m definitely talking about texting here.
I’m not going to sit here and tell you I don’t text (goodness knows I do), but I do feel that it’s come with its fair share of drawbacks, even with its advantages. Having known a time before it, I do not feel that it has helped much where it comes to matters of the heart. I am not saying you can’t have a meaningful conversation in a text, not at all. With that said, I do miss the days where we did talk on the phone...when we actually wrote letters (and yes, by hand...like I’m writing this now). There is a depth and a meaning there that just can’t properly be conveyed or felt over a text. With that said, however, I think what bothers me more than anything is how texting has fed this seeming desire and need for instant gratification. I need to tell you this—right now. I need to hear a response back; if not now, soon. And, obviously, if I don’t hear back, then what does that mean? Is he ignoring me? Busy? Is something wrong? And, even worse, Is he ghosting me?
There are some things I wish I’d never learned; ghosting is just one of them. But, unfortunately, by dating in today’s day and age of dating, I have learned it all too well. Ghosting, for those of you fortunate to not know what this means, is texting (or insert other digital form of communication here) someone you have been seeing and he/she simply never responds to you—ever. It is as if they have become...a ghost, thus the coinage of this term. I know what it is because I have personally experienced it. I have unfortunately experienced quite a bit of what I like to call, “bad behavior” in dating, and ghosting rates pretty high on that list. My point in sharing all of this is, is that by having learned what it is to be ghosted, I try my hardest to never succumb to the temptation to do so myself. I get why people do it, I do. It is far easier to simply stop talking to someone then to have a difficult conversation—to be painfully honest. But the truth is that only cowards do that kind of thing, and I am not a coward. I know I am not innocent in my history of dating; I have hurt some people. I say that not because I am proud of it, but because I want to be honest. It is going to happen when feelings inevitably get involved. My take away from all of it is to try and always be as honest as possible, even when it involves difficult conversations; to try to hurt as few people as possible by doing so.
So, with all of that said, I will get off my soap box condemning the “bad behavior” in dating and return to what this post was supposed to be about: Being alone. Why is it so hard to be alone? Even just writing the words—I find difficult, like my mind is rejecting them. The truth is, I know that I am not actually alone, but I also know that, far too often, I feel that I am...and I fear that I will always be so (serious, honest talk here). And no, it is not easy at all admitting that to you. I find the courage to share that because I know I can’t be alone in feeling this way.
But why do we feel like that? Why is it seemingly easier for some of us than it is for others? I know that I sometimes find myself envying those that seem to not need to hear from anyone. They appear like islands to me. Seemingly perfectly happy and self-sufficient, without any contact needed from the outside world. I often find myself wanting to be like that. But I know it is not my nature, nor do I think (if I’m being honest with myself) that anyone can sustain a healthy existence (long term) cut off from the outside world. With that said, I acknowledge that the instant gratification of texting has far too much power over my mood and how I’m feeling on any given day.
I should stop and explain that I am a self-proclaimed extrovert, through and through. I’ve always joked that I break the scale on extroversion (referring to my Myers-Briggs personality test results). The hard truth is that I can fall into a depressed state if I don’t hear from anyone for days on end. I thrive on human interaction and connection. Being in this place...it can feel debilitating. It is incredibly hard to share that, but it is the hard truth, and one that I want to share. I know what it’s like to go to that dark place and to not know how to ask for help—to seek that lifeline from the people that truly care about you. Thankfully I can say that I’m much better at recognizing the signs now and dealing with it when it comes up, but that does not mean I don’t still have hard times or struggle, because I do.
Being perfectly honest, this last week has been one of the hardest of my life, and also the reason why I’m just now finally typing this post. But, I also survived this week, and that’s what matters. I recognized the signs and I asked for the help that I needed, from the people I knew who were safe to go to for it. Because, deep down, I know that I am not alone; I know that there are people who love and care about me, and I know their names...and I absolutely reached out to them knowing I had a lifeline, that they are safe. I am so incredibly grateful to every single person on that list. I don’t know if any of you reading this are also struggling, but if you are, I encourage you to make your list. It doesn’t even have to be very long, but you need to have one. You are not an island, you are not alone, and you are loved.
The last thing I want to speak to, which is also the hardest, is my inability to let someone go. I feel that this is probably, by far, the biggest obstacle to my getting comfortable with being alone. I say “someone,” but I want to clarify that I’m not referring to one specific person. If I’m being honest, I have found difficulty letting go of more than one person. I have spent quite a lot of time recently thinking about this. I never expected this to happen. Dating as a teenager was so vastly different. I know that statement is painfully obvious, but, you see, that is all the experience I have to compare this to. When a relationship ended then, it sucked, but I quickly moved on. This is probably going to sound bad, but they were, for all intents and purposes, dead to me. I never wanted to see or talk to them ever again. The dating I have done as an adult...the emotions and feelings that have come with it—all of the complications, hurt and grief...let’s just say that I feel I was woefully unprepared for any of it. But especially for the (unexpected) inability to let someone go. I don’t think that has been (or is going to be) true of every relationship, but the times when I have fallen in love...I do believe that these relationships mark you. One simply doesn’t just forget that. Even when the head tells you that you need to, the heart doesn’t always sync. How does one simply turn that off? I am both blessed and cursed with an incredibly big heart, and I can’t just turn it off like a faucet.
I don’t have the answers, which makes this even harder to write. This post is difficult for me because it is an admission—an admission of my own frailty, of my weaknesses. I don’t regret the times I have fallen in love, for without love, without trying, what is there? I believe that all that remains from here is to try and do our best; to take each day as it comes. I am learning still; how to be comfortable being alone, but probably better stated, how to just be me. One day, I know, it will get easier. I know the importance of having grace for and with yourself. I am imperfect, but I am learning; I know how far I have come these past two and a half years. So, I have faith, and I take heart...and I know the best is yet to come.
With love, at Christmas (and always),
Sabrina Michele