If I remember correctly, with this great line, from Fleishman Is In Trouble by Taffy Brodesser-Akner, the main character refers to his first post-divorce intimate encounter. Although I don’t ever want to know what that’s like, recently finding myself alone with no place to be and nothing to think about but myself, I can certainly relate to the metaphor.  And it was different.

I may be unique in memorializing the alone-time I cherished as a single professional woman, some people don’t enjoy their own company. But in the mid 90’s, I embraced it. For the first time in my life, with no classes to attend, no roommate, a challenging nine to five job and a boyfriend who needed his “space,” I learned that I enjoyed being alone. While reveling in the silence of my own apartment and the choice to do whatever I wanted, with no regard for anyone else in the room, I wasn’t a hermit. I kept busy by joining a gym, a clay sculpting class, shopping, going to the movies and made a few new friends, but mostly I did things alone. I was a proud, independent self-assured young woman strutting to work in size two power suits with short skirts, two-inch shoulders pads and pointed pumps.

And yet, I was also a young woman in her mid-twenties with marriage and family perpetually on her mind. Finally shedding that uncommitted boyfriend who I clung to like a bad drug habit, I found one who wanted to share his life with me. And then, it was a long time before I was alone again.

Since my husband and I both work primarily from home, it’s rare that I get alone time. I do a happy dance, sometimes literally and figuratively when it happens. But, public alone time? Dining out by myself? Going to a movie on my own? I hadn’t experienced that in years, until this past Saturday.

My daughter was performing with her dance company at Universal in Orlando. When she went off with her friends to enjoy the park, our hotel room wasn’t ready yet, and I was forced to sit alone in a public place. Settling on a comfy lounge chair under an umbrella by the pool, I looked around self-consciously. When I caught the eyes of anyone around me, I felt sure they were judging me for not having anyone by my side to talk to, laugh with, or care for. I felt strange. Closing my eyes, I took a few deep breaths and surprised myself by falling asleep.

When I woke up, I smiled. Of course, I had a book with me, but I didn’t open it. I ordered lunch and had a cocktail. Beginning to remember how to enjoy the quiet luxury of my own thoughts, people watching took up the rest of the afternoon. Looking around, I marveled at the blueness of the sky, the crispness of the sixty-five-degree temperature. It was like taking ice skates off after wearing them for hours. I knew how to be alone, but this felt different. I felt different. I had forgotten how empowering it was to take time to forget about everyone else, but me. It was a great afternoon. Thanks Taffy Brodesser-Aker, this is one great line!

If you’d like to read more about Fleishman Is In Trouble, click here.

If you’d like to read more about me and why I started this blog, click here.