A few months ago I found myself as a
new resident of Washington, D.C. on my birthday. I was so new to the
city, in fact, that I found myself unable to make social plans for
the occasion because I felt I hadn't yet created many strong social
bonds. My go-to remedy for this dilemma? Go on a solo adventure to
Ocean City, Maryland.
I've been doing this forever. As a
little girl, I would spend hours daydreaming in the trees and
wilderness of Colorado on my own – dancing with the endless
imagination in my head. As a child it was simply natural,
uninhibited, and a welcomed response for escaping the boredom of
having no one to play with. I can honestly say that those years of
exercising my need for adventure while on my lonesome successfully
primed me to be an adult individual who's not afraid of participating
in any activity on her own. But as I left adolescence, and felt the
presence of intellect and self-consciousness creep in, another
unwanted component became something of a parasite on my adventures
alone: A sense of loneliness, and the realization that maybe being
alone wasn't completely fulfilling.
Not that this feeling stopped me from
doing all and everything that I wanted to do. In a lot of ways, this
new little cloud that hung over my exuberant plans served as fuel to
push myself even harder to prove that young women could do anything
they wanted, especially on their own. Don't have a man? Fuck it, go
to Barcelona on your own and drink flaming shots with a handsome
Spaniard who doesn't speak English. Don't have any good friends
around to have a girl's night with? Put on a black dress, grab your
red lipstick, and treat yourself to wine and oysters anyway.
I definitely find the idea of “dating
yourself” (I know, it has become silly and cliché to say but it
still rings true) as honorable, and even necessary in some ways, to a
21st century woman's sense of accomplishment and
self-esteem. I'm also a strong believer in Eleanor Roosevelt's words:
Do the thing you're afraid to do. And for most young women who are
just coming into themselves, the thing that they are afraid to do is
own their power and ability to enjoy their own company, in public,
completely on their own.
But in
my case, I was beginning to deceive myself. I hadn't realized that I
had become a master at what so many other young people were still
just discovering in themselves. And not only was I blind to my own
mastery, I was using my skills to escape my true fears
by pretending I was afraid of something that in reality I was quite
comfortable with. I had become so good at empowering myself to be
alone, that I neglected ever developing my ability to express
vulnerability with other people.
My
solo birthday trip to Ocean City came up just a hair short of being a
complete emotional disaster. I had booked myself a hotel just outside
the beach, and as I pulled up after my three-hour drive from D.C., I
opened my room to see a big, beautiful bed waiting for me – but I
was not met with the expected feeling of self-indulgence and
pampering that I longed for. In that doorway, I felt myself standing
at the dark precipice of loneliness. And this, my friends, annoyed me
to no end. I was determined to fight off the feeling with a long
bubble bath, salty snacks, and as much “So You Think You Can Dance”
as I could get. As usual, I was using the feeling of loneliness to
fuel myself to be even more alone, and to like it, damn it!
But no
matter what I did for myself, I only felt worse as my birthday
dragged on. I was beginning to feel sorry for myself. I was beginning
to feel unloved, and even worse, unlovable, because
I was starting to believe the tragic story that was creating itself
in my mind about how pathetic it was to be young, beautiful, and
utterly alone on your 27th
birthday. And it really was pathetic – not because it was true, but
because I was leaving out the minor detail that it was entirely my
choice to be alone on my birthday. No one told me to go to the island
of lost, young and beautiful 27-year-olds because nobody loved me. I
chose to go there.
I
didn't dare ask a single friendly face or acquaintance if they'd like
to join me. I didn't even realize, until after it was all said and
done, that there was no way that I would have put myself into that
kind of vulnerable position to get rejected. I was so good at making
plans on my own that I once again decided to forgo the chance to get
what I really craved - connection, intimacy, trust, community, fun!
– in order to protect myself from the fact that I might not get it
even if I asked for it.
I was
back at work after my birthday weekend had passed and coworkers
casually chatted about how their weekends had gone. When I was asked
I'd tell them that it was my birthday over the weekend and I'd spent
it in Ocean City. Without mentioning that I'd gone alone, I'd go on
about how nice it was to lay on the beach again but how terrible the
traffic was coming back into D.C., and they would knowingly nod in
agreement and then shuffle back to their desks. But I had one
coworker who was particularly thoughtful and intuitive. After I told
him about my weekend adventure, he leaned in and quietly said You
went there alone, didn't you... I
was taken aback by his insight, and felt a pang of emotion in the
place where the loneliness had been. Everyone else had assumed I'd
gone with some gaggle of anonymous, smiling friends; but his comment
about the reality of my situation created the moment of intimacy that
I'd been too afraid to conjure up on my own. That's really
brave, you know. Not a lot of people could do that, he
continued. I simply smiled, and said I know. I
was distracted by the odd burning my behind my eyes.
There's
a lot of fine lines in life. (Seriously, people are throwing out
“fine lines” like they're going out of style. We're basically
living in a spider's web with all these fine lines.) But
unfortunately I've found another one. There's a fine line between
doing what you're afraid to do just to save face and doing what
you're really afraid
to do to save your soul. Women (no, everyone!) should be comfortable
spending time doing exciting/challenging things on their own. Not
just simple things like getting a pedicure without your usual buddy;
but doing big, important things
on their own so that they feel empowered to take on any situation
life throws at them knowing full well that they can handle whatever,
come what may.
But don't confuse self-empowerment
as a replacement for the social intimacy that we all need to survive.
That's exactly where I found
myself on my birthday when I deceived myself into thinking that it
was easier to go it alone than to risk getting my sensitive heart
trampled on by a rejection or two. But in life, you miss 100% of the
shots you don't take. And even if I had taken a shot and missed on
that birthday adventure, at least I would have had built some
strength and character behind the attempt.
Don't think that
because I've recently had this insight that I've suddenly changed my
fearful ways overnight. I still do a lot of things alone that I
secretly wish I could be doing with fellow awesome people. I'm not
yet sure how to share my vulnerability, my desire to connect, to
openly express my true feelings with the people around me that I
like or am attracted to – I'm working on it. Now that I recognize
the avoidance I was creating in my life by hiding behind a false
sense of empowerment, I'm certainly in a better place to discredit
the story of being on the island of lost, young and beautiful
27-year-olds... That sounds like it could be a really great reality
TV show though!
