I spent the past four years of my life single – two of them celibate. After ten years of unfulfilling and unsatisfactory relationships, I decided that I no longer wanted to share my body with people incapable of sharing their heart. I decided it was time to focus on myself, time to rewrite my storyline and evolve into a new character – one that loved herself, one that loved being with herself.
But society has an interesting way of defining solitude. Many of us have grown up in cultures that equate aloneness to loneliness. We learn that there is inherent shame in solitude. So when we find ourselves spending more time alone than in the company of others, we start to question ourselves. We wonder whether we are worthy of love, whether we are good enough to be loved, whether we will ever get a chance to find love. And with just a few taps, we easily tune into other people’s relationships. We see the holiday proposals, the weekend anniversary trips, the birthday celebrations, the pregnancy announcements, the concerts, the vacations, the dinners, the pictures, the places, the people. We compare our lives and assume the shadows behind the screen are happier – because at least they are not alone.
Constantly, we are consciously, and subconsciously, indoctrinated with the belief that solitude is shameful. We are subliminally taught that relationships are good – even if they are painful, and singleness is bad – even when it is peaceful. So naturally, during these long spells of solitude, we internalize societies teachings and mistakenly believe that there must be something wrong with us because we’ve been alone for so long.
For all of you reading these words right now, for all of you who resonate with these emotions, I need you to know this, accept this, and believe this:
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