Leaning into Loneliness

Mexico City Museo del Palacio de Bellas Artes at the ballet, salsa dancing at Mamma Rumba and lunch at Rosetta (with Leslie, not alone!)

The Fall has dropped off some new insights, some sadness and a lot of sitting with loneliness.  

Muchas gracias, Fall. 

I would have been content to sit on my couch with my husband binging Netflix, even letting him watch the sci-fi, war-alien-creature-space shows rather than confront some of these emotions.

Alas, life has served-up an entirely different scenario and I will have to forgo man-child TV streaming.

It’s all very necessary, but not necessarily welcome.

This season has regurgitated a new grief cycle and presented some uncomfortable and unanswerable questions.

Now that I’m alone, how will my life end up?  What does my future hold?

Ewwwwwww.

No one knows. None of us.

But, for many people my age, the trajectory is fairly predictable. You sort of know how it’s going to go - or you think you do. 

There are probabilities which can be calculated and some solid predictions based on those probabilities that does not even have to involve girl math. 

It’s just basic projection. Until of course it isn’t. 

Like…

Someone dies.

Someone gets cancer.

Someone gets divorced.

Someone’s house burns down.

Someone’s kid blows up.

And so on….

And when these things happen, like it did with me, you have to build an entirely new infrastructure while flying a plane without a parachute anywhere in sight. 

This is what the last three years have felt like for me – a 360-degree life turn leaving me feeling like Linda Blair in the Exorcist.

I am no longer the person I was anymore.

How could I be? That life no longer exists; I’ve had to change, to adjust to this new reality - to experiment, to grow, to fail, to succeed, to be scared, uncomfortable and lost.

I am not unique. Many people reinvent themselves. 

Over the summer, ‘Summer Claire’ emerged, surprising me with my inability to ground myself in decent, much less, good choices which wreaked havoc with my central nervous system. I just got temporarily 'lost' for, well, like 90 days, and my therapist kindly told me that it was something that was probably necessary.

Really?  

They all say this stuff don’t they?

Of course it involved men and dating, several of them and one in particular. (No, I was not doing anything untoward.)

I found it soul crushing and not worth the cost of my hair care products and makeup to prepare myself to meet incompatible strangers who put forth little effort or were clearly not who they presented on line.

And, for those who I did not meet but communicated with, I answered the two most common questions at least 50 times - 'What is my ideal vacation spot?' followed by 'What is my ideal first date?'

Please. Make it stop. (I did!) And, humans, we can and must do better here. Now I've heard AI is jumping in to save the day. God help us.

At one point in August, I shared some of this with my very wise, 31-year-old-world-traveling son. 

ME: I’ve been making some bad choices but I’m okay. I'm feeling very out of control. The dating stuff sucks and it makes me feel awful.

MY SON (MS): What’s happening?

ME: I feel unmoored.

MS: Hmm okay, kinda seems like you’re distracting yourself.

ME: Yea, I guess. It’s very unfulfilling. I’d like something real.

MS: Yeah, I totally get it. Just don’t think you’ll find what you’re looking for through the channels you’re using. I think if you really met someone who was candidate material you might be feeling doubts if you really want it. I think you seem much happier alone but that’s what I see.

ME: And yeah I agree, I may not want it.

MS: Your life seems of better quality because you do exactly what you want to do and you do it your own way.

ME: It’s probably easier alone for me but I would like a partner once in a while.

MS: Yes, I understand..

ME: I feel lonely.

MS: I do get that. I guess it just seems like you’re not spending much time alone. I think you see your friends all the time.

ME: I know, I do.

MS: But I know it’s not the same

ME The friends and stuff are keeping me alive and going on.  Otherwise I’d be depressed and sad.

MS: You might feel better about your loneliness when you stop searching as well because then you won’t be fixating on what you lack.  You can put your attention on everything you already have. What if you conquered loneliness rather than seeking to escape from it through a relationship?

MS: I have 3% battery so I think our therapy session is up already. Love you. I know it sucks but you have a lot going for you!

ME: Love you too; I agree I am very lucky.

MS: I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so alive. I tell people that all the time. I have a mom more hip and lively than I am.

Crack. Snapple. Pop. Out of the mouths of babes.

Maybe I actually did something right in my life. The kid’s got some wisdom.

So, I have been following this wise advice, trying to conquer loneliness, the damned bastard beast. We all know there is a big difference between being lonely and alone. In fact, the most painful loneliness is feeling lonely and yet not actually be alone.

My conquest is beginning to work. I'm getting better - finding my ground, my center.

I’m leaning into loneliness, and while not an always welcome friend, she is starting to become a familiar acquaintance that I don’t want to repel. Growth.

In other news, like Stella, I’m also getting my groove back - finding my hip and lively self again. 

Younger women in particular tend to think I’m hip and lively especially when I disclose my actual age.  I guess at 30 I do seem ancient.

I find this all quite flattering, for a minute. Then, I watch them go through the math and realize I’m their mom’s age and then sort-of decide that I’m decrepit.

“Wow, you could be my mom,” many say and then laugh uncomfortably.

This is not untrue, love.

They begin to think about Mom (and Dad’s) daily life and compare us – me, in a bar, or museum, or monument, or restaurant, alone, in a foreign country, making my way through the world.

I can see them trying to wrap their minds around their future selves, wondering who they will be at my age. Will they be their parents or someone like me?

I’ve been told many times, I hope I’m like you when I’m your age.

Envy is a tricky thing. Not everyone can made bad decisions look this good, ladies.

Most days, I’m grateful everything still works and I’m here, not missing out on a life that was and a future that is unknown. 

Because, none of us really ever knows, whether you are 30 or my age, even if you’ve mapped out all those probabilities.

So as I embrace this loneliness, I figure I may as well eat dessert, drink good wine, get entangled with a man and lose my sense of stability. 

What else do I have to do with this one, precious life? (Mary Oliver)

Tell me about your bad choices. I'd love to hear from you.

xo/Claire