Alone, or Lonely?
By Tricia Ferdinand

On a whim, I booked a two-day getaway for myself: one night at a small Bed and Breakfast and two days of museum seeing and sightseeing. When I arrived at the Bed and Breakfast I entered the quaint house and greeted the host. He smiled and welcomed me, then looked around and asked “Are you here all by yourself?” That was the second time that day that someone looked at me and asked the same question with an almost pitying tone, and soon I began to wonder if there really was something wrong with the fact that I frequently traveled and visited places alone.

I distinctly remember the first time I told a close friend that I had just returned from the movie theater after watching a movie by myself. She seemed horrified and asked why I did not tell her I was going so she could accompany me. I mentioned that the movie I saw was something I was sure she would not want to see. She said, in a similar pitying tone, that she would have gone anyway just so I did not have to sit by myself.

I have never found doing things alone distasteful. While I was in a relationship I would often go to the movies by myself, by choice, and always enjoyed the experience. I have since become braver and ventured outside of the country on my own (I spent a week in Costa Rica solo and loved it!), and I would do it all over again if I could. But it seems not everyone has such a rosy outlook on doing things alone. I have since had people say to me that they could not imagine doing some of the things I have done alone, and they wonder why I do it. Some for instance, refuse to step foot in a movie theater unless accompanied by someone. Others claim they would just die of mortification if they had to sit in a restaurant alone. The overarching feeling seems to be embarrassment. People hope to avoid potential stares or assumptions or perhaps most of all the questions. I suppose I cannot blame them.

This situation brings to mind a larger issue, one that certainly many people deal with: loneliness. A friend recently asked me to define the difference between someone who is alone and someone who is lonely. He went on to say that for many people there probably was no real difference, that people who considered themselves alone probably felt lonely. This conversation further highlighted some things I had been thinking about for years. Why is it that for many people solitude, the physical condition of being alone automatically implies a feeling of loneliness? Why isn’t our own company enough for us?

It is of course natural to feel lonely occasionally, to feel like we are alone in the world sometimes, but that feeling should be temporary, and should not necessarily come from spending time with ourselves. We should not be anxious about spending Friday nights at home with the TV or a good book. The thought of eating alone at a restaurant should not incite embarrassment or sadness. We should make more of an effort to spend some time with ourselves, away from friends and family, and get so comfortable with it that the thought of leaving the country alone should not worry us.

It seems too many people have become uncomfortable with spending time alone, assuming that being alone means loneliness. This is unfortunate, especially since the opposite is actually true. The minute we begin to understand the power that comes from understanding ourselves, from reveling in the silence that comes with solitary time, the comfort of knowing ourselves inside and out, we would understand that though we may be physically alone, we are never lonely.

“I am with you always, even to the end of the age.” Matthew 28:20