How to Be Comfortable Alone: The Night My Phone Taught Me Everything

The night I learned how to be comfortable alone started with panic. I was fully dressed for an evening out, and no one was calling me back.

I’d been staring at my phone for over an hour. Checking clocks. Sending texts. Willing the thing to ring with every ounce of whatever supernatural power I thought I had.

Nothing.

When Silence Feels Like Rejection

Paranoia is my go-to emotion in times of distress. Maybe everyone’s still getting ready? Of course they’ll call when they want to head out. I’m well-liked, right?

But I couldn’t convince myself. Instead, I started hypothesizing apocalyptic scenarios revolving around my fictitious ability to scare away everyone I care about.

There was a pang in the pit of my stomach I couldn’t shake. I turned on the local news. Was there an emergency? No. Maybe a cellular tower went down. I started organizing my books by author, subject matter, and emotional impact.

I heard a ringtone and ran toward it. Halfway to my ear, I realized it was my brother’s phone, not mine.

No one had called me.

The Meditation Experiment

Depression set in. I needed mindless busy work. I needed someone to call and reaffirm that I was desirable. But what I actually needed was to learn how to be alone with myself and stop letting outside opinions determine how I felt.

So I pulled out a guided meditation recording. I’d already meditated for an hour that day, but centering myself seemed more productive than pouting.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

I tried to clear my mind, but I kept thinking the whole thing was a farce designed to trick unstable people into feeling better.

But it worked. The deeper I breathed, the more oxygen my lungs pulled in, creating a euphoria that flowed through my entire body.

I don’t need validation. I’m a strong and confident person. I can have anything I desire.

It’s easy to get lost in positive affirmations. But when the session ended, I was once again reminded that no one wanted to hang out with me.

Running From the Feeling

I fell asleep fully dressed, hoping the dream world would provide the social stimulation I craved. I woke at 3am and checked my phone for missed calls.

Nothing.

Dual depression. Not only had I lost all my friends, but instead of finding a creative outlet for my emotional state, I’d chosen to run from it. Searching for comfort in unconsciousness and failing.

Life is meant to be lived in the present. Problems should be faced head-on. I pulled out my journal.

I’m comfortable being alone with myself. I find happiness inwardly. I’m a star. A big shining star.

The Recipe Metaphor

After writing gratitude statements and listing positive qualities in myself, my spirits lifted. Enough to get out of bed and make dinner.

As I prepared my food, it hit me: life isn’t so different from the recipes I was staring at.

We all have access to the same ingredients. The outcome is dictated by how we put them together. Some opt for light meals ready quickly. Others find joy in preparing something more hearty and fulfilling.

I’m the latter. I’d rather put extended time and effort into the preparation to see a final outcome that’s both satisfying and momentous.

All the heartache, stress, and doubt I’ve felt isn’t detrimental. It’s necessary. A baking period on medium heat that seems painful when confined to a lonely oven, but becomes substantial and delicious once fully cooked and shared.

The Twist

I sat down to dine on what I’d prepared and pulled out my phone to post my new insight: Life can be delicious, if you will only take the time and effort to make it so.

Pressing send, I felt energized. New possibility circled around me.

And that’s when I saw it. The almost comical reason behind my evening of self-discovery.

Under the cracked screen: “You must disable airplane mode to send or receive messages.”

My phone exploded with missed calls, texts, and voicemails. I couldn’t figure out if I should laugh or cry. I ended up trembling with elation.

I’m such a ridiculous mess. A beautiful mess, but a mess nonetheless.

What Being Alone Actually Taught Me

I thumbed through each message, incredulous that I’d spent the evening in such a state of worry. Upset but relieved that I could have spent the night out with so many amazing people.

But perhaps this was for the best.

Think of everything I learned. Being alone with yourself isn’t the worst thing in the world. Sometimes it’s exactly what you need.

I put my dishes away and changed into something appropriate for sleep.

I can create my own well-being. Everything I desire is manifesting itself into my life. I’m strong and confident. I’m well-prepared, perfectly cooked, and ready to be served.

Maybe these affirmations aren’t so bad after all.