Living Alone: The Unromanticized Version

Whether living alone or cohabiting with your significant other in a cozy apartment, I don't see any eliteness or difference. Somehow, I still find myself falling back and forth into this fantasy of independence in all its glory. I still cringe at the thought of irritating arguments about who would wash the dishes. I have tried it all, from living with a partner for years to sleeping on a single bed. I'm afraid I'm still not the highly celebrated 30-something successful woman who is fulfilled and happy in her solitary state. I'm still trapped in this self-improvement phase of my life, but yes I do have a cat for starters. He could be a child replacement, but yes I have enough of the crazy cat lady jokes, thank you. Ever since I have moved to the tropics, I have become dependent on my cat when I couldn't kill the uninvited creepy crawlies myself, and yes I have been told many times in my life that I am bigger than those bugs. I guess that is just the reality of living alone, you have those unexpected nuisances pushing you to adapt to the burden of freedom.

From living alone in one place to living a nomadic life, I bring myself wherever I go. I carry with me this lonely label of an unattached soul just passing through. Then I realized how I needed another soul as the brutality of living alone caught me by surprise. I hauled a newly bought desk up the hill where I used to stay. I excitedly unboxed this desk made of cheap wood only to be surprised with a complicated set of instructions. This lazy and needy side of me wanted to call someone to assemble this furniture but I remembered I was living on my own in another country. I quickly messaged my male best friend who was about to sleep. I recalled telling him that I couldn't do this....Why not, it's just a puzzle, he told me. After a couple of minutes of trying to make sense of those drawers and the right screws for each part, it finally became a proper desk. I must say, I felt proud of myself.

After those solitary months in the altitude, I became curious of staying within sea-level. So I woke up and found myself in the isolated islands in the Pacific in which tourists are the ones passing through. As always, I didn't go out of my way to have 24-hour friendships or introduce myself all over again to a passerby. I just adapted to my own silence for the most part and I'm pretty sure that my future partner would highly appreciate that. Whether I'm in the shower or just lying around doing nothing, I always find solace in this myriad of words formulated in my mind that I find hard to translate in your language. A part of me still likes the fact that nobody asks me what am I thinking? I just couldn't tell everything that I'm thinking otherwise I would be prosecuted. I also like that nobody's watching my back telling me to stop being in front of the computer all the time. Although, a part of me wants someone to invite me to take an afternoon walk and get some fresh air. I still struggle with finding balance in this life of a hermit without fear of being alone.

I become a shoulder to cry on of friends who are married and have babies. I remember my friend who is introduced to the reality of living with his girlfriend. I listened eagerly to the nagging stories and all the mundane tasks this new life gave him. He gets this daily curse for his manly sloppiness and all the unavoidable disorganization of things. Sadly, they now find themselves just staying together for the kids. I really have no issues with a man who is not so organized because I can be such a pig sometimes, but not really. These days, I just do not want to attract more disgusting bugs so I learned to clean and organize my stuff regularly, just not obsessively. I used to live with this man who carefully arranged the things I put on the table and would be really annoyed if I stepped on the carpet he just cleaned. I didn't have such a big problem if he wanted everything to be really clean and organized, but it was just interesting to live with someone who has OCD. Living with someone requires some understanding and acceptance.

I decided to take a break from my isolation in a strange land and began traveling once again. I faced the reality of staying in this shared room full of strangers also known as the hostel. I pulled out from my own laundry some dirty socks and boxer shorts that were obviously not mine. I began accusing the men playing with me who might have just accidentally mixed their stuff with mine on the floor. Although I didn't find it such a big issue, I just found a solution. I commanded them to share the laundry expenses and bring my dirty clothes along with theirs to the receptionist. In this supposedly mixed dorm in Colombia, there were understandably more traveling men than women, which explained why I was outnumbered. Probably because most women are just afraid of traveling in this part of the world or do not have any interests in taking their time in each place. Perhaps there are more European men who are after cheap cocaine and big-booty Colombianas. Anyway, the dorm was not really bad as it seemed. I didn't have to do anything anymore as there was always a volunteer who changed the sheets or cleaned the puke in the toilet from last night. I was still kind of living alone but not really. Fortunately, even my fellow travelers and wannabe nomads understood the need for privacy even in this shared space. People can still leave you to do whatever you want to do.

Living with strangers lost its charm after a while. I started dreaming of creative and solitary future, erasing the fantasy of a wedding day. I need to become financially stable in order to afford the luxury of a private space as living alone can be expensive too. I also need to be financially capable in case I need to pack my bag again.

I retired momentarily from human connection and glory days of traveling. I went back to isolation where I found it more comfortable. I still romanticize living alone, being able to sit in front of the computer until late without disturbance, walk naked after a shower then stare into the abyss without being judged. I have found comfort in this dangerous freedom of being able to do whatever I want, and not being told what to do.

Even men who constantly mock clingy girls are needy themselves, that's why they go around looking for affection like sane human beings they are. Meanwhile, a woman in her thirties invites a toxic blend of pity, mockery, and suspicion for living alone still. These days, I found freedom in not caring what the society thinks of me and surely, my solitude is not anyone's business. I will do whatever works for me until I'm ready for another person in my life. Although, I admit that it would always be hard for me to find balance as it is human nature to lean towards the extreme side of things. I just remind myself that there are many unhappy relationships out there because people tend to rush things for the fear of being alone in old age. I do believe that you must experience living on your own at least once in your life. Having a partner is not the end of a story and whether you like it or not, you will still face this time of settling down to a solitary existence at some point in your life, now or between husbands or wives. If you don't learn how to be alone early on, you will still struggle with a relationship after a relationship. In the end, it would be more beautiful to share the living space and glorious moments of your life with another loving, whole and free human being.