Most people are not afraid of being alone. They are afraid of what will rise to the surface when there is no one left to distract them.
We chase people not for who they are but for what they help us forget. Loneliness. Grief. Shame. That hollow hum underneath everything we do not want to feel. And so we collect people like clutter. We confuse attention with connection. We mistake presence for love. And we run from silence as if it will destroy us.
In 2020 and 2021, I went through a phase that I now look back on with quiet compassion. I was friends with people who were never right for me. Not because I was looking for love, but because I was terrified of what would happen if I sat with myself. I did not know how to face the sadness in my home. I did not know how to name what I had buried for so long. Being alone felt like drowning. So I tried to save myself by clinging to anyone who would keep me afloat, even if they pulled me further from myself.
What I understand now is that we do not just seek people. We seek distractions. And we often ruin things by turning others into tools for our healing. That is not love. That is fear dressed in intimacy.
Our generation struggles with solitude. We fill every gap with noise. We call people our soulmates just because they make us feel less lonely for an hour. We mistake friendship for romance. We stretch connections too far and then resent them for breaking. At the root of this is one truth we have not been taught to enjoy our own company.
No one taught me that hobbies are a form of emotional independence. That reading, writing, drawing, walking, baking, or even staring out the window can be a homecoming. That when you invest in doing things you love, you stop expecting others to rescue you from boredom. Hobbies teach you who you are when no one is watching. They bring you back to yourself.
And I have changed. Slowly. Quietly. Gently. I am no longer afraid of empty rooms. I have learned to live without constantly proving my worth. I now have friends who do not demand a performance. They teach me every day through the way they listen, the way they create, the way they live with honesty. We have conversations that challenge me, that ground me. These are not people I cling to for survival. They are people I grow with.
Solitude is no longer a threat. It is a space I return to. A room where I meet myself over and over again. Where I can sit in silence and not feel small. Where I can do nothing and still feel whole.
I used to think being alone meant something was wrong with me. Now I understand that learning to be alone is a kind of freedom. When you are not afraid of yourself, you stop using people as escape routes. You choose better. You love better. You become someone worth spending time with.
And that is what I am learning to be.
A Simple Solitude Practice List
• Sit in silence for ten minutes without music or distractions
• Take yourself out on a walk or a slow meal
• Keep a notebook to track your feelings without judgment
• Do something creative without the need to share it
• Practice saying no even when it feels uncomfortable
• Learn to breathe through discomfort instead of escaping it
Quotes That Stay With Me
“A man who is a master of patience is master of everything else.”
George Savile
“Loneliness is the human condition. No one is ever going to fill that space.”
Janet Fitch
“The more powerful and original a mind, the more it will incline towards the religion of solitude.”
Aldous Huxley
“You do not need to leave your room. Remain sitting at your table and listen. You need not even listen, simply wait.”
Franz Kafka
“To live alone is the fate of all great souls.”
Fyodor Dostoevsky
