On being alone.

Being alone is something I treasure, something I take great joy from. In all honesty, it’s probably the introverted-ness talking, but my time alone to sit and think, read, sing, write… do what ever I like, whenever I’d like to.

Spending time with people is nice and all, but there is always always this front that needs to be put on; you can never truly be yourself with people. Once you start acting in a certain way around someone – polite and sweet around one group, funny and a bit crude around another, completely innocent and naive around the third- they expect you to always act like that.

And that is draining. So many different groups of people (family, friendship groups 1,2 &3, strangers) so many different personalities. So many different acts.

At least when you’re alone, you can be who you want, because there is no one to judge you. If you want to be silly and goofy, you can and if you want to be quiet and serious, you can. No judgement, no repercussions, no expectations. Just relief.

You can be completely selfish. Yeah, I know that isn’t a good thing, we’re supposed to care about others, blah blah blah. But while we’re caring for others, we ignore ourselves. And doesn’t that sound like it should be in a self help book?

Being selfish doesn’t have to mean ignoring other people’s needs entirely, just… the ones that interfere with your own needs. Like the need to be relaxed and not fulfil expectations.

And that is something I only get from being alone.


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