There was a time when I thought being alone in public made you look lonely.
Especially in restaurants.
I used to notice people sitting alone and immediately create stories about them in my head. Maybe they were waiting for someone. Maybe they had been stood up. Maybe they wished they were somewhere else.
Now I sometimes wonder how many of those people were actually far more comfortable with themselves than everyone around them.
The first time I intentionally sat down alone at a beautiful restaurant, I remember feeling strangely exposed. As if everyone around me had silently noticed that I arrived without company.
It took me a while to realise that most people are far too occupied with themselves to study the details of your existence as closely as you imagine.
And even if they did notice, what exactly was so tragic about a person enjoying their own company?
Somewhere along the way, solitude stopped feeling like absence and started feeling like space.
Space to observe.
Space to think clearly.
Space to hear my own thoughts without the constant noise of other people’s expectations.
I think many of us spend years trying to avoid being alone because being alone leaves us face to face with ourselves. No distractions. No performance. No conversation to hide behind.
Just you.
And sometimes that can feel uncomfortable before it feels peaceful.
But there is also something quietly beautiful about reaching a point where your own presence becomes enough.
Not because you no longer value connection, love, or companionship, but because your happiness no longer fully depends on being constantly surrounded by them.
Some of my most memorable moments happened alone.
Walking through unfamiliar cities.
Reading in cafés.
Watching sunsets nobody else paused for.
Sitting at tables for one in countries that once existed only inside my imagination.
And strangely, those moments never made me feel abandoned.
They made me feel present.
I think there is a difference between loneliness and solitude.
Loneliness empties you.
Solitude returns you to yourself.
The older I get, the more I realise that the relationship we build with ourselves quietly shapes every other relationship in our lives.
Because if you cannot sit peacefully at a table alone with yourself, no amount of external company will fully quiet the discomfort within you.
Sometimes the most important relationship we build is the one waiting for us in silence.