Image by Andriyko Podilnyk on Unsplash.
Recently, I’ve been seeing an unfortunate trend among articles and posts celebrating the joys of solitude. They see being alone not as a joyful opportunity, but as an escape from being around people, dealing with noise, holding political conversations, and more. This approach views solitude as withdrawing from the world, not as freedom to do what you enjoy in your own company.
Don’t get me wrong. I love staying home. Currently, I’m down to one cat who doesn’t like other cats, but for over 20 years I had 2 cats and a dog. After years of moving around, I now have a top-floor condo that is as quiet as a retreat house. I can easily spend a day working on my latest writing project and learning Italian by reading giallos – Italian detective stories.
But there’s a misconception that single people want to be alone *all* the time. That is false. Single people tend to be more active in community associations, as Robert Putnam points out in the iconic book Bowling Alone. Bella DePaulo goes even further in her book Single at Heart, pointing out that single people act as caretakers for their loved ones, volunteer, and have lots of friends. We’re not just an adult version of “Home Alone 5.”
There’s also a misconception that choosing to be alone means rejecting components of being in the world. People who embrace the single identity are saying “yes,” not “no.” Not just “no more irritating political conversations” or “no more boring dates.” We’re saying “yes to more silence in our lives” and “yes to making creative choices.”
Let’s face it: without reasons to get out and about, staying home would feel like serving a sentence under house arrest. Being snowbound is fun for a day or two, and then it becomes a trap. Even during quarantine, I went for long walks and to safe outdoor places, like farmers markets.
There’s no denying that solitude and a day alone can be a real gift. It’s why so many of us single people look forward to the holidays. We turn down invitations to eat turkey in the company of others in favor of a day doing exactly what we want.
Years ago, I spent a Thanksgiving holiday reading a murder mystery in the dog park while my dog played happily with her pack. When people asked what I was doing to celebrate, I lied and told them I would be going out in the evening.
But I find myself getting nervous when people say they’re staying home to avoid the bad parts of being in the world. Even desert hermits had a community. I want to think of time alone as a valve that opens and closes…not one that shuts out the world 24/7.
