Why You Need to Learn How to Be Alone

For a long time, I wasn't very good at being alone.

I could do it physically. I could spend an evening by myself, go somewhere alone, watch a movie, grab a drink, or sit at home with nobody around. That wasn't really the problem.

The harder part was being comfortable with myself when nobody else was filling the space.

I didn't fully understand that for a while. I thought I just liked being around people. I'm social. I enjoy having someone to talk to, someone to make plans with, someone to share things with. There's nothing wrong with that.

But eventually I had to admit there was a difference between enjoying someone's company and needing someone's company.

Someone Called Me Out on It

My ex actually called me out on this a while back.

At the time, I didn't necessarily want to hear it. Sometimes the things people point out about us are the things we're least interested in looking at.

But she wasn't completely wrong.

I had become too comfortable with the idea that having someone beside me meant I was okay. Being in a relationship, having plans, having someone to talk to, knowing someone was there, all of that could make me feel more settled.

When that wasn't there, I felt the absence of it.

And that forced me to look at something I hadn't really wanted to look at: Was I actually comfortable being alone, or was I just uncomfortable being without someone?

That's a very different question.

Being Alone Isn't the Same as Being Lonely

I think we sometimes treat these as the same thing.

They're not.

Loneliness is wanting connection and not having it. Being alone is simply being by yourself.

You can be surrounded by people and still feel lonely. You can also sit alone in a restaurant, take yourself somewhere, spend a quiet night at home, and feel completely okay.

Learning to be alone isn't about convincing yourself that you don't need anybody.

It's about knowing that you're okay even when nobody is there.

That's an important distinction.

I still want relationships. I still want companionship. I still want someone to laugh with, travel with, share a meal with, and come home to someday.

Learning to be alone hasn't changed that.

It has changed what I expect another person to provide for me.

I'm Still Learning This

I'm not writing this from the other side of the mountain.

I'm still learning how to be alone.

There are still moments when I miss having someone there. There are still nights when the quiet feels heavier than I'd like. There are still times when I catch myself wanting to reach for connection simply because I don't want to sit with whatever I'm feeling.

The difference is that I'm getting better at sitting with it.

And I can actually feel the difference.

I've gone places alone. I've spent more time with myself. I've learned that I can have a good night without needing someone else to make it good.

I've started to enjoy my own company instead of automatically treating being alone as something that needs to be fixed.

That's progress.

Not perfection. Progress.

You Learn a Lot About Yourself in the Quiet

When you're constantly surrounded by people, there's not much room to hear yourself think.

Being alone gives you that room.

You start noticing what you actually enjoy. You think about the decisions you've made. You recognize patterns. You figure out what you're willing to tolerate and what you're not. Sometimes you realize that the person you thought you needed was actually helping you avoid dealing with yourself.

That last one can be uncomfortable.

But it's also where a lot of growth happens.

I've learned that I don't want to fill every empty space in my life just because it's empty.

Some spaces are supposed to be empty for a while.

Don't Turn Independence Into Isolation

There's another side to this that matters.

Learning to be alone doesn't mean becoming the guy who says he doesn't need anybody.

That's not strength.

People need people. We need friendship, family, love, community, affection, conversation and connection. Wanting those things doesn't make you weak or dependent.

The goal isn't to need nobody.

The goal is to stop needing someone else to make you feel whole.

There's a big difference.

I want people in my life because they make my life better, not because I don't know who I am without them.

I'm Starting to Understand the Difference

I used to think being alone meant something was missing.

Now I'm starting to see it differently.

Sometimes being alone is simply a season where you get to know yourself again.

You figure out what you like. You learn what you don't. You become comfortable making your own plans. You stop waiting for somebody else to make life feel exciting. You learn that a quiet night doesn't automatically mean you're missing out.

And somewhere along the way, you realize something pretty important:

Being alone isn't the opposite of having a good life.

Sometimes it's part of building one.

I'm still figuring this out. My ex pointed something out to me that I wasn't completely ready to hear at the time, and I've had to learn it for myself since.

I still struggle with it sometimes.

But I'm doing better.

And I feel it.

I'm more comfortable in my own company. I'm less afraid of the quiet. I'm learning that I don't have to immediately fill every empty space.

Maybe that's what becoming someone you respect looks like sometimes.

Not having all the answers.

Just becoming a little more comfortable being the person you are when nobody else is around.