There’s a saying that I never really understood the logistics behind the phrase “You can be in a room full of people, yet still feel alone.” I remember hearing that once when I was younger and was confused. How could that even be possible? If you had other people near you, you were not alone. It was a fact.
Well, now I finally understand. Today I found myself in a room full of 150 people, people that I would even call friends. The difference was, however, that those 150 friends were closer with someone else in the room than they were with me. It is unnerving to walk into a room where everyone is happy that you’re there, but would be quite fine to go about their lives if you weren’t. It’s alienating, even if it’s not realized.
I’m at my overnight camp, my happy place for the past thirteen years of my life. I had a whole group of friends, the same friends for almost all of those thirteen years. This year, however, the real world stole them away, and they decided to further their future careers with internships in business, finance and design, but certainly not in arts and crafts in one hundred degree heat. I’m by myself.
The first day I was here, I did not expect it to be so hard. I spent the afternoon meeting new people and trying to connect with the counselors younger than me, and the ones who had never been at camp before. Everything was going great, until they played a video for the staff which was meant to entice us into the exciting world of camp. For me, at the sight of all my old bunkmates on a screen, it sent me into hysterics.
I looked around through my tear filled eyes and didn’t recognize anyone for a second. I saw people happy to be with each other, and people discussing memories. The people I used to discuss memories of camp with were suddenly those same memories. It hurt.
But, if I’m one thing, it’s perseverant when I truly care. It’s day four as I write this. It has gotten a little easier. If it hadn’t, I would have quit three days ago. It is a very strange feeling to have to invite yourself into people’s conversations at a place where you used to be the center of them. It’s been an adjustment to have to tell stories of my friends, and have to be reminded that they’re not here when everyone keeps asking me what they’re spending the summer doing. It seems like they’re all doing something important. It seems like I am just too scared to grow up.
It is true, that people make a place. But it also is so important to find new people to create new memories with. I have to keep telling myself that it will get better, will get easier, and even if someone else has a better friend in the room than I do, who’s to say I can't eventually become that better friend to someone else?
So, the saying has finally ringed true to me. It is possible to feel alone in a room of people when your presence seems to not matter. But what I’ve realized is that when you walk into a room, your presence changes the dynamic. Your presence can spark a new energy that wasn’t there before, and instill a positive vibe so important when working with a group. Even if it is hard at the start, the longer you’re with people and the more you start to contribute, the more necessary you become, and the happier you feel. You just can’t be afraid to go for it.
Even though it’s hard, it’s a challenge I’m willing to take. This summer is about me and my goals, and I can’t wait to tell my campers stories of growing up with my best friends, no matter how hard it might be at first. Though they’re not here, I’m excited to start this new journey. It just takes one small “Hi, my name is…” to suddenly not feel so alone.
