A friend asked me recently to expound upon how I've "found joy" in being alone. After my divorce, I didn't attempt to date for about nine years, using that time instead on other pursuits/interests. Whether it was the product of fear, hesitation, trust issues, or some amalgam of the three - it worked for me and thus I remained alone for nearly a decade. And I was quite content during this time, neither unhappy nor unfulfilled. The following excerpt was my attempt to address the why/how of that period in my life:
I imagine everyone's experience is different and their position/opinion on any given topic is largely shaped from the product of their experiences. I was married and divorced at a very young age. I suppose any number of consequences could have resulted from that circumstance - hopping right back into the dating scene, maybe taking a year off to heal and regroup. Unfortunately, that isn't my story. I had a really hard time coming to terms with the divorce and the causes leading up to it. Without going into the what nor the why, suffice it to say it left a pretty big hole in my heart and some substantial trust issues. I was also pretty low about it and in desperate need of something to provide a "high", if you will.
My salvation came in several forms - my job which provided a much-needed outlet for me to throw my time, talents, and energies into; my close friends who offered encouragement and the occasional (but necessary) tough love to get me back on my feet; and my family (can't say enough about them). I grew to depend on each of these three forms fairly heavily and continued a varying form of dependence long after the divorce had come and gone. I share this to highlight the importance these supports played in my life for so long following the divorce and to help you have a perspective on why being "alone" wasn't a unhappy time for me. Quite the contrary, I had everything I needed/wanted/was able to tolerate at that particular time and so it "worked" for me.
I think there's a important distinction between desiring "alone-ness" (seeking solitude) and being lonely (seeking companionship). I spent years enjoying my solitude because any thoughts of companionship brought back a flood of memories of all the things I had endured during my very difficult marriage and no amount of solace from having a person in my life again would be worth the myriad of angst, frustration and pain I associated with trying to make companionship (dating/marriage) work. I hope that's making sense.
There were other benefits as well. Complete and absolute autonomy became my roommate. I could literally go anywhere, do anything, at anytime and it was okay - there was no resistance, no voice cautioning me that this was a poor decision, or immature, or not a good idea. I was able to live my life purely on the basis of my own desires, my own resolutions. And live I did - working unbelievable hours, taking on the impossible assignments, engaging in some amazing international/domestic travel, taking up photography, creating amazing itineraries for my son and I to enjoy, reading, playing sports, remaining immersed in my work, making new friends, filling my life with rich experiences, "seizing the day". This lifestyle of security and freedom of choice became a very comfortable blanket during my chilly period of romantic isolationism. And this blanket kept me secure and warm for a period of about nine years - when I didn't date, didn't seek companionship, and enjoyed my period of "alone-ness" rather than "loneliness".
So what changed? I imagine I simply recognized that I wasn't intended to be alone (or at least I was reminded of this fact). Solitude can be a wonderful thing and continues to be an important element of "who I am". But our real development and growth occurs, in my opinion, when we try to share our life with another. You learn sacrifice, compromise, the transition of love from a conditional state to an unconditional one, charity, patience, long-suffering, faith, hope, and true and lasting joy whilst attempting to create, nurture and strengthen love and dependency on another human being. And it manifest itself in many facets of my life: trips became more hollow, food tasted more dull, experiences became a shadow of their former selves - all indications that I was transitioning from a state of solitude to a period of loneliness. I believe it was simply the passage of time or perhaps a sub-conscious healing process taking place "behind the scenes" but I found myself not just willing to try trusting another but actually desiring that opportunity and chance.
The danger with that transformation (from solitude to loneliness) is that it can tempt you to move more quickly than your able/capable. I observe people who leave one impossible relationship, claim they're going to "enjoy their down-time", and then rush headlong into an equally impossible situation because, deep down, they were so unaccustomed and uncomfortable with being alone. Quite simply, they had never learned how to exist, survive, or thrive in a state of solitude. I don't want that for myself. I certainly didn't get married to get divorced and I'm genuinely hoping to avoid making a similar mistake a second time. This means I must learn patience, must continue to practice the art of solitude for those times when a dating relationship doesn't work out. It also means I observe through my interactions with friends, with dates, with everyone - what is it that I'll need in another to sustain my dependence and my desire to become one with another. A sense of attraction, both physical and substantive? Mutual sense of humor, mutual interests, mutual values? Perspective? And, of course, how we view the concepts of solitude and loneliness? Finding compatibility in these areas will help make the transition for me a smooth one, will offer opportunities to be reminded of all the things I feel I've been missing about being in a relationship but to be able to do it in a way that allows for a gradual shifting vs. dropping off a cliff of expected change.
So I currently sit somewhere in the middle of this transformation. I still enjoy my solitude and fill my "alone time" with experiences and activities that are self-fulfilling (organic cooking, a new workout routine, a December dive trip to the Bahamas "just because", etc.) but I'm equally excited about the prospect of finding someone to share many of these experiences with, a person I'm attracted to, that makes me laugh, that makes me want to be a better provider, better supporter, better man for. And there's no rush and there's no time limit. Because even if I go years without meeting someone that truly accomplishes all of those things for me and I for her - I value and appreciate what can be realized and accomplished on my own as well...
My salvation came in several forms - my job which provided a much-needed outlet for me to throw my time, talents, and energies into; my close friends who offered encouragement and the occasional (but necessary) tough love to get me back on my feet; and my family (can't say enough about them). I grew to depend on each of these three forms fairly heavily and continued a varying form of dependence long after the divorce had come and gone. I share this to highlight the importance these supports played in my life for so long following the divorce and to help you have a perspective on why being "alone" wasn't a unhappy time for me. Quite the contrary, I had everything I needed/wanted/was able to tolerate at that particular time and so it "worked" for me.
I think there's a important distinction between desiring "alone-ness" (seeking solitude) and being lonely (seeking companionship). I spent years enjoying my solitude because any thoughts of companionship brought back a flood of memories of all the things I had endured during my very difficult marriage and no amount of solace from having a person in my life again would be worth the myriad of angst, frustration and pain I associated with trying to make companionship (dating/marriage) work. I hope that's making sense.
There were other benefits as well. Complete and absolute autonomy became my roommate. I could literally go anywhere, do anything, at anytime and it was okay - there was no resistance, no voice cautioning me that this was a poor decision, or immature, or not a good idea. I was able to live my life purely on the basis of my own desires, my own resolutions. And live I did - working unbelievable hours, taking on the impossible assignments, engaging in some amazing international/domestic travel, taking up photography, creating amazing itineraries for my son and I to enjoy, reading, playing sports, remaining immersed in my work, making new friends, filling my life with rich experiences, "seizing the day". This lifestyle of security and freedom of choice became a very comfortable blanket during my chilly period of romantic isolationism. And this blanket kept me secure and warm for a period of about nine years - when I didn't date, didn't seek companionship, and enjoyed my period of "alone-ness" rather than "loneliness".
So what changed? I imagine I simply recognized that I wasn't intended to be alone (or at least I was reminded of this fact). Solitude can be a wonderful thing and continues to be an important element of "who I am". But our real development and growth occurs, in my opinion, when we try to share our life with another. You learn sacrifice, compromise, the transition of love from a conditional state to an unconditional one, charity, patience, long-suffering, faith, hope, and true and lasting joy whilst attempting to create, nurture and strengthen love and dependency on another human being. And it manifest itself in many facets of my life: trips became more hollow, food tasted more dull, experiences became a shadow of their former selves - all indications that I was transitioning from a state of solitude to a period of loneliness. I believe it was simply the passage of time or perhaps a sub-conscious healing process taking place "behind the scenes" but I found myself not just willing to try trusting another but actually desiring that opportunity and chance.
The danger with that transformation (from solitude to loneliness) is that it can tempt you to move more quickly than your able/capable. I observe people who leave one impossible relationship, claim they're going to "enjoy their down-time", and then rush headlong into an equally impossible situation because, deep down, they were so unaccustomed and uncomfortable with being alone. Quite simply, they had never learned how to exist, survive, or thrive in a state of solitude. I don't want that for myself. I certainly didn't get married to get divorced and I'm genuinely hoping to avoid making a similar mistake a second time. This means I must learn patience, must continue to practice the art of solitude for those times when a dating relationship doesn't work out. It also means I observe through my interactions with friends, with dates, with everyone - what is it that I'll need in another to sustain my dependence and my desire to become one with another. A sense of attraction, both physical and substantive? Mutual sense of humor, mutual interests, mutual values? Perspective? And, of course, how we view the concepts of solitude and loneliness? Finding compatibility in these areas will help make the transition for me a smooth one, will offer opportunities to be reminded of all the things I feel I've been missing about being in a relationship but to be able to do it in a way that allows for a gradual shifting vs. dropping off a cliff of expected change.
So I currently sit somewhere in the middle of this transformation. I still enjoy my solitude and fill my "alone time" with experiences and activities that are self-fulfilling (organic cooking, a new workout routine, a December dive trip to the Bahamas "just because", etc.) but I'm equally excited about the prospect of finding someone to share many of these experiences with, a person I'm attracted to, that makes me laugh, that makes me want to be a better provider, better supporter, better man for. And there's no rush and there's no time limit. Because even if I go years without meeting someone that truly accomplishes all of those things for me and I for her - I value and appreciate what can be realized and accomplished on my own as well...
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