by Alexander Romero

Companionship is often seen as an integral component of humanity; the desire and need for us to connect with others, form relationships, and eventually grow old with each other watching the sunset on a beach as your grandchildren build sandcastles nearby. And I’d agree with this, as I see kinship and the formation of relations with others as necessary for life, both socially, culturally, and even biologically. But regardless of your current status and position when it comes to relationships—with family, friends, partners, etc—there will inevitably come a time where we find ourselves…alone in the world, tasked with the seemingly impossible challenge of tackling life, with no one at our side to help.

Admittedly though, this might be a slight exaggeration, as even monks who devote themselves to a lifetime of secluded meditation and asceticism still live in hermitages and monasteries with other like-minded individuals. Or, perhaps as a more relatable example, when going through a traumatic event, we can often rely on the comfort of our friends and family for support to help us through such trying times. This is all well and good, and there’s nothing wrong with reaching out for comfort; in fact, I fully support doing so! Yet, why do I, as I’m sure many others out there, still feel the occasional need to lone wolf everything, and approach life alone voluntarily?

The inherent fascination I have with solitude has only increased in the past few months, mainly due to a breakup I experienced earlier in the year. Something trivial and silly in the vast scheme of the universe, but definitely as earth-shattering as any event I’ve experienced in my meager twenty-one years of life. Losing someone as integral as they were to my life essentially also meant losing a part of me—my identity—so the process of picking up the pieces and learning to truly find comfort and peace with myself and who I am has sparked my journey into myself, learning not to be an outcast puppeteered by my own lonely self-pity, but rather, an individual seeking to find solace in solitude.

There’s an important social and cultural distinction to be made between the loner and the solitary, as the former is almost always discussed in a negative light. Loners seem to be more akin to social and cultural outcasts–members on the fringe of society–often talked about in conjunction with the deterioration of social skills, mental health, and the often, and most unfortunate, exhibitions of violence that such a lifestyle seems to encourage; for example, how most mass shooters are labeled as “extreme loners,” and victims of bullying or ostracism. In making this distinction, I seek to simply outline the negative connotation in which lonerism is discussed, as such individuals are more often than not also a victim of a culture that doesn’t advocate for mental health to the extent that it should.

But that’s a topic for another day.

So no, don’t quit your job and walk or hitchhike across America, as fun as that may sound.

Solitaries, a term Fenton Johnson also uses in his essay collection “At the Center of All Beauty: Solitude and the Creative Life,” can be seen in a much different light, as they are individuals who seek peace and comfort in themselves, alone and separate from the company of others. This isn’t to say that such individuals completely eliminate contact with others, as relationships between solitary individuals can, and do, exist. Solitaries view and rely on being alone as a way of enrichment, growth, and self-sufficiency. This implies a variety of different things, from doing errands and standard tasks of life alone, to reading, writing, or taking solo trips for the sake of your own pleasure: from the mundane to the exuberant, solitaries not only enjoy such activities alone, but learn to find tranquility in such a lifestyle as well.

Ultimately, the distinction between these two labels is to clarify that solitude is another viable virtue we can take into account when living our lives–though perhaps not to the extent of total self-isolation. While the labels themselves are inconsequential, the distinction between the two is more so representative of society’s perception of being alone, and the different lights loneliness is viewed in.

However, that’s precisely my point: loneliness, lonerism, and solitaries are all essentially comparable, simply being perceived in different ways by sociocultural perspectives. Sure, one can exist alone, living life in accordance to their own whims and needs. But if that individual is content in doing so, are they truly alone? Or have they found the inner-peace that so many of us, including myself, yearn for in a world where we increasingly find ourselves literally, and figuratively, “plugged in” to the world and all its problems.

I’m not advocating for you to quit your job, sell all your possessions, and embark on a solo Odyssey to see and travel the world hunting one’s purpose. Chris McCandless did that, and it ended in nothing but sadness and shock for him and his loved ones. And while it’s easy to write off what he did as foolish, naive, and thoughtless, it’s much harder to come to terms and admire his actions instead; while most of us could only dream of shedding our material possessions and undertaking a journey such as his, Chris—in his tragically beautiful spirit of yearning—did so himself. And there’s nothing more admirable than someone manifesting their own hopes, dreams, and futures.

So no, don’t quit your job and walk or hitchhike across America, as fun as that may sound. You’ll only be met with some insanely expensive Uber fees, battered sneakers, a hungry stomach, and an intense sunburn because you couldn’t afford to buy sunscreen–that money was spent on the aforementioned Ubers. But do find your own calling, your purpose, and pursue it not necessarily on your own, but be prepared to do so if needed.

After so much time spent deciding each and every step of my future with my partner in mind, meticulously attempting to plan where to go for education, where to live, and where we’d be in X amount of years, the sudden shift of tackling my future alone was akin to tossing a toddler into the deep end of the pool in an attempt to teach it to swim. No floaties either. It wasn’t so much of a rude awakening, per se, but the sensation of tackling life–and all its trials–alone for the first time in a long time was, and still is, challenging. And I don’t think that challenge goes away for any of us, really, regardless of our relationship status (single, married, etc.). We simply learn to deal with whatever life throws at us in different ways; I just so happen to be at that stage of life where I’m finding my own footing… on my own. It’s not easy, it isn’t all sunshine and rainbows, but it isn’t doom and gloom either.

So no, don’t quit your job, as you’d need that money to finally go on that solo road trip you’ve had in mind, but be smart about it. Go on that solo hike, but bring enough water and a map. Go to your favorite coffee shop—regardless if anyone wants to come with you. Self care is (rightfully so) the new wave, but if your form of self care happens to rest only within your own hands, more power to you. Similarly, you don’t need a budding undergrad writer to tell you how to approach life or what makes you happy, as those answers can only be found introspectively.

Life’s fun in good company, but I’d argue there’s no better company than yourself, comforted and warmed by the simple notion that you are taking charge of your own happiness and purpose.