who are you, when it’s just you?
what are you so afraid of?
Who are you when it’s just…you?
I’m thinking about this now, as I sit on my sofa on a Saturday morning. It’s -8 and cloudy, and it’s the first time in a while where I don’t feel the need to interact with the outside world. No walks to the grocery store, no corner spots at the bar. No texts to neighbours, friends, family. I’ve put my phone on airplane mode. I don’t want to feel needed. And this, to me, is always a good thing.
I pride myself on having strong social boundaries. I’m not afraid to bail, to say no, to send a text that says - “I’m feeling drained today, but I’ll message you tomorrow <3.”
This is because I realized something. As a writer, you are constantly observing, constantly stimulated. Constantly finding meaning, crafting a narrative, and putting two or seven or eighteen pieces together. Even when I’m standing in line for a coffee - I’ve become hyper aware of my own thoughts, my own story.
Do I want a latte or an Americano or a brewed coffee? Is regular milk okay or should I do oat milk? Will oat milk make me bloated? Are the people in front of me dating? I love her green wallet. There is something chic about wallets. I only use Apple Pay but I should make use out of my LV cardholder. I do love the feeling of the tap, though. Instant gratification. I miss my old barista. The guy she’s dating is kind of cute but his skin is dull. Should I visit my friend at the skincare store? Do I need a brightening mask? Did I put on SPF this morning? What’s the first sign of aging? How will I know?
You see? Everything becomes an observation, everything becomes a story, and everything has this possibility to become a distraction.
But distraction is a form of control, isn’t it? It’s like those endless Hinge matches and packed weekend schedules. Running from the quiet, running from our own company.
If I just ___, if I do ___, if I book ___, if I go to ___.
I won’t have to feel, think, or remember - will I?
Last week, I told my friend Logan (
) that a huge moment of growth came when I realized that no other guy, no other distraction was going to be able to take the complicated memories about OFM away. And for the first time, I didn’t want them to. I didn’t want the messiness of Hinge. Of plotting a vengeful hookup.Letting go of an eight-year old idea, and an eight-year old possibility, isn’t easy.
But this is why we need moments like this, days like this. Moments of undoing. Leggings, glasses, and a hoodie. My phone is silent, my apartment is silent, and so is my inner world.
With all of these learnings - how do we feel our lessons?
So, here is a list of my un-curated lessons and learnings that came to me from the past two weeks. In the moments where I was truly alone, not an overstimulating interaction or distraction in sight.
The people who hurt us do not have the power to heal us. I used to think if I could just have one more conversation, maybe we could turn things around and try again and then the lingering pain from his absence would cure me. It wouldn’t. I realized this while I was cooking my favourite chicken lettuce wraps.
I have come so far since October. Since November. Since our last night together in January. It’s being well - trained in matters like this: grief. Accepting the sadness when it comes, accepting the sadness as beautiful, accepting the sadness as an extension of love that lingers and love that still exists.
I dove right in. I did. In all of the books that I read about grief, the books that find me - there is always a moment towards the end of the novel. The character is realizing she can’t keep running. She finds a body of water. A pool, or an ocean. And she just jumps. She jumps in and she lets the water pull her under. Everything around her disappears. She sees nothing but feels everything. And when she emerges, the sun beams down on her. She feels what she’s lost, and she’s transformed.
That’s how I feel right now. Transformed in the sense of: I can feel deep pain, but I can also feel deep joy. But most importantly, a deep reverence. And it’s in the quiet, where I can see it. Where I can feel it.
Who are you when it’s just…you?
Do you think a lot of people know the answer to this question? And do you think a lot of people want to know the answer to this question?
What happens when the Wi-Fi is down on an airplane? Or when a friend stands you up for dinner, but you’re already at the restaurant?
When your partner, sibling, or roommate goes on vacation? When you wake up alone, surrounded by nothing but pillows and blankets and your own thoughts and emotions and memories?
Are you scared? What are you so afraid of? What are we so afraid of, really?
I want to end this letter with a thank you note. I realize I should thank my community more. To feel, to write, and to express. To have people care, to have people understand. That’s what success looks like to me. It’s having that ability to put that pen to paper - or my long, red nails to a keyboard. To tell a story and explore my feelings. Maybe they’re not the happiest stories, in society’s eyes - but they’re the most impactful. The most meaningful to me. Those unfinished love stories and those experiences. To connect those dots and put pieces together. No event is random. We are all living out our destiny.
Writing is a gift. Storytelling is a gift. And I am honoured that you choose to listen.
So, from the corner spot of the bar. To the depths of the oceans and the couches of living rooms. To the souls that are tied together in different universes, the ones that are dancing together on different planes. The ideas of love that were shattered, rebuilt, and reborn. The longing for different endings that will always live inside of us.
What a blessing it is. To experience it all.
And thank you for letting me share my life with all of you.
This is beautiful! I have a lot of anxiety and so for a long time when I was just alone with myself my mind would flood with anxious or intrusive thoughts and I'd start to feel really scared-- almost a deep sense of dread. This year one of my main goals has been to feel more comfortable being alone with myself because it's sad to me that it has become such a scary thing. I'm still not where I want to be yet, but this article reminds me of the beauty of just being with my true self🌷 thank you:)
I will tell you what we are all afraid of.
When we are alone, we tend to think; which is not something you can stop or control. You might think that you can, but you may control a thought or two, but not every thought that crosses your mind. Now this, alone, is not easy to handle. because In Islam we have something called ‘nafs’ and i can explain it as “the ID” its one of the components of the human soul; ID, ego, and superego; defined by Sigmund Freud. The ID might tell you things that you don’t want to hear, you dont want to do, but you can’t help listening to it. Which what drives us crazy if we let it control us over time. It’s basically your obsessive thoughts about a certain situation, or a craving, or being unable to control a certain need. This is what makes us terrified to be alone. Because we won’t be actually alone, the ID will be our companion.