Being Alone for the First Time in Adulthood

“Have you been partying and drinking a lot?,” my nail tech asked with a smirk. 

This was her response to my divulging that, a few months ago, I had gone through a pretty rough break-up. 

Her question actually made me laugh out loud, and I responded with a smug, “No, I’ve been going to the gym and meditating.”

But then, as the tips of my fingers were soaking in acetone, I realized that until recently, I had been using a different, equally unhealthy way to numb my loneliness: romantic company.

See, when my ex and I broke up, I had resolved to stay single for a few months. I had this fear of being alone that I was determined to get over.

Well, determined-ish, as it turns out—because the second someone put an effort into pursuing me, I caved. 

I used every argument I could to justify it: we have a lot in common, he’s really sweet with me, I can be myself around him. But the truth is that I wasn’t ready to date anyone by a long shot. What I was really doing, in retrospect, was teeing up a distraction from the painful solitude I was enduring. 

That wasn’t fair to either of us. It robbed me of my opportunity to heal and grow as an individual, and it robbed him of the stable relationship he was after. 

At that moment at the nail salon, it became pretty obvious that I had to recommit to singledom. How hard could that be? 

Well, as a social butterfly who, as my best friend aptly put it, is “boy crazy,” it turns out that the answer is pretty dang hard. Almost immediately, someone new caught my eye and it was looking increasingly less likely that I would make it through the self-imposed three-month dating hiatus that I had promised myself (and my friends) I would embark on. 

Though a kick in the pants at the time—but, in all likelihood, probably for the best—life circumstances pulled me away from my new crush. So, as I’m writing this, I have once again returned to my voluntary dating exile. 

But what the last few weeks of chaotic feelings and meanderings have taught me is that I can’t trust myself to keep the promise of my own accord. I enjoy partnership too much to avoid the temptations of potential romantic pursuits. 

I want to, though. I really am motivated to truly embrace the mindset that I don’t need anyone—that I’m perfectly capable of riding solo for some time. And, more than anything, I want to feel a complete and utter lack of loneliness when my social calendar takes a breather for the evening.

That’s what this little ramble is about. My hope is that, by putting these thoughts into writing, I’ll feel a deeper sense of accountability to stick to my plan. 

It’s important. And though the choice to be alone is hard (for me anyways), Glennon Doyle’s mantra never fails to carry me through these challenges with faith in my heart: 

“We can do hard things.”