It had never occurred to me that there is a difference between being alone, and being lonely. Isn’t that strange? Alone always equalled lonely in my mind, and I can’t remember a time I didn’t believe that miscalculated equation. Alone and lonely felt the same to say out loud; they feel cold and sad. However, in reality, they’re as different as could be!
When I was a teenager, I used to be off school fairly often due to illness and anxiety, which meant I would find myself in the house on my own for a few hours a day when my parents were at work; and I loved it. I would sit in my room, listening to music and writing, and then I’d find myself back downstairs in front of the TV to watch The Jeremy Kyle Show (My ultimate guilty pleasure TV show back then)
Those days, despite being days I felt unwell, were some of the most wholesome feeling memories I have. The feeling of being able to be myself with no judgement was something I loved, however the feeling of needing to be something for someone else was always greater than that, and sadly that’s what I’ve spent most of my life doing.
To be alone is to have all pressure taken away from me. No thoughts or judgement from others. I can listen to whatever I want with no one saying, “Really? This album again?” I guess time alone was the only place I could be myself and not worry about what any outside influences had to say.
I think I’ve always seen myself as something to someone else, rather than whoever I am as an individual. I only ever spent time on my own when there was absolutely no one else I could be around – I was my own last resort, and in hindsight, that makes me feel sad.
Being my own last resort was all I knew and was a sentiment that followed me into my adult life too. It never struck me as a problem until the 2020 lockdown. Alone time was all I had, which was great, however, I found myself in a strange predicament: I was enjoying being alone, writing and listening to music like I always did, however, there was something very different this time around; there was judgement weighing on my back.
Doing things I wanted, and things I enjoyed was met with questions at the end of each day. “Why is this not done?” and, “What have you been doing?” while the things that made up my life and happiness were being described as ‘excuses’. The best thing about being alone was there being no judgement, but now judgement had entered the room – and so did loneliness
I learned to separate my time between being who I had to be, and being who I wanted to be, and in the small time I made for myself I was still able to do exactly what I did as a teenager: listen to the same album on repeat all day, write and watch Keeping Up The The Kardashians (A step up from The Jeremy Kyle Show, don’t you think?) but still judgement screamed from the back of my mind. Asking me what I was doing, why wasn’t I doing other things, and questioning everything I enjoy.
Having the enjoyment of being alone snatched away from me, made me realise just how different ‘alone’ and ‘lonely’ really are.
I had never experienced loneliness until that time in my life, I was shocked by just how painful it can feel. Being lonely, even when you’re physically not alone, can be a crippling kind of pain; a pain I never want to experience again.
In recent months I’ve been able to enjoy being alone once again, and any judement I once had no longer applies. The only person to judge me now is myself! Even though I do find that voice in my mind screaming judging questions at me, I’m learning to tell it to pipe down, and it is beginning to subside as time goes on.
Where once I was my own last resort, I now make a priority of myself and the things that make me happy. Whether it is applying my makeup in the morning, a lovely bubble bath, or laying in my bed and listening to music late at night – they’re mine to enjoy.
The words ‘alone’ and ‘lonely’ no longer feel the same to me. Lonely feels abandoned and dark, whereas alone feels safe and warm. Time on my own, and whatever I choose to fill that time with, is my own choice, and that’s important to me
It’s just a shame I had to learn the difference the hard way.
Gwen Richards 