"Do the Thing that You are Afraid to Do"

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 21^st 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 27^th 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!