Learning How to Keep Yourself Company is Part of Being Single
My friend called me weird for going out alone.
38. Still single.
Well, divorced since 3,000 years ago, so it really feels like it never happened. Like it was a different lifetime ago. That was actually the beginning of my goings out alone. That was 2005. I was 24 then.
Back then, a friend thought it was something special that I would go out alone. She said I inspired her. I used to go to Salt Creek Beach and sit on the huge grassy hill east of the ocean, alone. I would bring coffee or food, and sometimes a book or journal with me, and just sit there. This was before iPhones and Blackberries.
I wasn’t on some mission. I wasn’t trying to be cool or become the greatest influencer on how to sit alone. It was just the first time in my life that I found myself truly on my own. I had left home to be with the man I divorced. I was learning how to do life and find community, on my own. And sometimes, I just really wanted to sit in the sunshine. I had friends, but they were living their own lives and not always available for grass-sitting dates.
I remember feeling as though I had learned something important then. Surely I was making Harry Connick Jr.’s character from Hope Floats proud. Dining alone is not for sissies. Neither is going to the beach alone.
From there, I would learn to do many other things *alone*. Dining alone, running alone, road-tripping alone, flying alone, making decisions alone, traveling the world alone, financing a vehicle alone. To name a few.
A few weeks ago, I added another item to the done-alone list. I went to a bar to watch live music, alone. This is a place I’ve been before. I had enjoyed the atmosphere when I’d gone before, and I knew there would be live reggae music the night I went.
It was something I had tried to do months ago, but couldn’t. My gumption was hiding somewhere, buried beneath the heaviness of insecurity, after a painful breakup. I actually drove to the place with the live reggae music then, but made excuses not to go in, and left.
This time I was ready. Funnily enough, I had just broken up with another someone. Less painful of a breakup, this one, but they all hurt. And this is something I am an expert on. If you need an influencer who knows what it’s like to break up with someone, I’m your human.
I had gone to a different place the night before — a country bar. I met a friend who loves country music and dancing as much as I do, and we line danced and two-stepped the night away. When Sunday rolled around, I remembered the place with the reggae music. I got giddy at the thought of enjoying music and dancing twice in one weekend.
A note here — I don’t frequent bars very often. I do love dancing. It’s my favorite thing to do, but I typically dance in my living space, or with a group learning how to line dance (something else I’ve done *alone*). I’m not much for alcohol, though. I can enjoy a glass of wine or a beer, but that’s it. My body decided long ago we weren’t going to do much drinking. But every once in a while, I do enjoy going out like this.
So I decided to be brave and go out alone. I went to the place I like with live reggae music and found a seat at the bar where I felt comfortable. I ordered a glass of red wine, and faced the direction of the band. I sat there and watched and smiled and swayed with the music, as I slowly sipped my wine.
I wasn’t actually alone, of course. There were the members of the band, and the bartenders, and the other people who showed up to appreciate the music. By the end of the night, I’d learned several names, and had people telling me their stories. I danced. And I left at 10pm. It was one of the best nights of fun I’ve had.
A few days later, I saw a friend. She’s a good one, this friend, and we’ve known each other a long time. I told her how I went to the bar alone, and she called me weird. I’m not mad, and I didn’t take it personally. But am I weird for going out alone?
Learning how to keep yourself company is part of being single.
It’s been a long road for me, learning how to be single. I’ve had all sorts of adventures. And I know I’m not alone. I’m not actually alone when I go out *alone* — we are always surrounded by other humans! And nature and animals and God, if you believe that sort of thing. But I’m also not alone on this journey. To myself, and any single woman reading this: You are not weird for going out alone.
Part of being single is learning how to keep yourself company. If that means going out and having a glass of wine alone, go do it. If it means going and sitting on the grass overlooking the ocean with your coffee, alone, go do it. If it means joining a line dance class alone, go do it!
Just because we’re single, that doesn’t mean we have to sit around and wait until we have a partner to do things with. That seems like an awfully sad way to live to me. All we have is today. All we have is now. If you’re single — no matter what age you are or what your history is — there’s nothing wrong with you, just because you’re single. And if you want to go do something alone, that doesn’t make you weird.
Going out alone is kind of badass, actually. It shows you have gumption, and that you love yourself enough to enjoy life now, even if you don’t have a partner. Keeping yourself company is a fine skill to have. One you should be proud of.
