Let’s get one thing straight: there is a difference between being alone and being lonely. Being alone doesn’t automatically make you lonely, as commonly assumed. All too often I see people feel bad for someone who is by themselves, or look down upon being alone in general, as if it is this unwanted, miserable burden that no one would choose for themselves. However, there are many instances where I absolutely love being alone: when I go to the gym, when I want to zone-in on homework, when I write, or purely when I need some “me” time to do whatever I please. Some people might think that it’s odd to enjoy being alone, but let me tell you, it is empowering.
For example, this past Summer, I went to Africa alone. I went on a surreal, month-long volunteer trip to Southern Africa knowing absolutely no one. Although I was alone, never was I lonely. I was surrounded by people from all over the globe, and now I can honestly say that I have best friends in Manchester—England, Malaysia, South Africa, El Paso—Texas, Montana, North Carolina, and Sweden. And what’s funny is that’s not even all of them! Before venturing to South Africa, I had no way of knowing that I would be surrounded by a group of people who I would consider some of my closest friends.
Together we drank (because we were oh-so legal), shared stories, made a difference in the Cefane Village, touched and were touched by an orphanage in Swaziland, went caving and natural hot-spring-swimming, ventured into the Indian Ocean by scuba diving and surfing, hesitantly did what the Africans called “Kloofing”, all the while laughing and crying, being completely terrified together. I was entirely engulfed in experiences I could only dream of with people I could only hope for. Sure, I began the trip alone but I was never lonely.
I came back from Africa more self-assured than ever before. I felt knowledgeable, independent, and strong. There were so many barriers and fears I was forced to overcome on my own; a million little things I had to figure out for myself and by myself. As physically and mentally exhausting as that was, I couldn’t feel more thankful that I chose to immerse myself in such an unforeseeable experience alone. I know if I had gone on that trip with a relative or a friend, my experience wouldn’t have been the same. Naturally I would have stuck by my comforting companion and as a result I probably wouldn’t have gotten as close to my volunteer mates, or have made the same memories with them. The thought of that even being a possibility makes me so incredibly sad because there isn’t a single thing I would change about my time in Africa—not drinking far too much in Mozambique, not spilling every last drop of my contact solution inside my suitcase during travel and noticing upon my arrival at a distant village in Swaziland, not not packing nowhere near enough warm clothes—nothing. I wouldn’t change a thing. Everything was so inexplicably and perfectly imperfect.
Now and then I think of Africa when I choose to do something alone. I think of all of the little things I might experience differently simply from being alone. I find it kind of funny when people automatically associate being alone with being lonely because you can be surrounded by people and still feel lonely. Regardless, I believe some experiences were meant to be felt and reflected on alone. In a world where everyone shouts their opinions at one another, it can be hard to distinguish which one is yours and I personally never want to lose that distinction. So yes, occasionally I choose to eat alone, walk to class alone, watch a movie alone; occasionally I choose to be alone, but it is more than that. I am choosing to empower myself, by myself, for myself. That doesn't mean the process won't ever not be lonely or uncomfortable, it just means that eventually the resulting experiences will make it totally and completely worth it.