Growing up in an introverted home, the norm was being quieter, more alone than the other kids. To make up for it, I had lots of louder friends, and by my senior year of high school had convinced myself I was half introverted, half extroverted. This wasn’t a lie exactly, it just also wasn’t the truth. Looking back, I think it was just a phase of my life where I did better in groups than by myself. It was okay then, but not how I function the best now.

The wonderful thing about college is the freedom you have in exploring, expounding and excavating not only in friends and activities but also in yourself. For many of us, the hardest part of college was the first couple of weeks where you were forced to make and decide who your new friends would be, and how those friends would shape you. The easy part, however, like clockwork, were the moments of silence where we started to find ourselves — without our parents, without the friends who have known us for decades, without the places that shaped our lives up until that point—and in that emptiness where we could have felt lonely or discouraged, a lot of us simply found ourselves.

We looked in the mirror and began to see past mere reflection and began to see a friend. We began to accept flaws we didn’t have the strength to before. Maybe we gained confidence or wisdom. We began to take ourselves on “dates” and being alone wasn’t frowned upon like it seemed it was in high school. We began to understand and accept that these are the years to be picky in who we hang out with, what we do with our time, and who we decide to turn into. This is our time to be healthily selfish.

“Me, myself and I” has become a favorite part of my week. If I am ever in a rut, I can almost always pinpoint it to being because I haven’t spent enough time alone, to process this world I’m living in, these sights I’m seeing, new people I’m meeting. With all of the stress, I hold about the future, relationships, school, work, etc I have found that I need time by myself to simply breathe, take it all in and sort it out in a rational manner. This is common for introverts-- after being around people for awhile, many of us simply need time to recharge.

My favorite thing to ask myself (borrowed from "Eat, Pray, Love" by Elizabeth Gilbert) is, “What do I want to do today?” I will always be honest in my response, and the outcomes of that normally result in happiness that no one else can create within me. Life is a wonderful and hard and crazy journey, and you are only 100 percent guaranteed to have yourself throughout the entire ride, so why not get to know yourself at an early age?

The art of solitude is accepting yourself at every state, whether heartbroken, manic, joyful, faithful, or just plain wacky and then proceeding with understanding and love that only you can give yourself.

Introvert and extrovert alike, I believe coming to peace with alone-time is an important part of emerging adulthood.