Time for Living Alone
Sometimes you've got to find yourself again.
After my second divorce, in 2007, I decided I had to move away. I didn’t know who I was anymore. My father in Ohio wanted me to move in with him. My daughters and their families wanted me near them on the east coast.
I knew all of them meant well and I loved them for asking, but I knew my healing was going to take being alone with myself. I didn’t know who the hell I was anymore. I had decisions to make —what did I want for the rest of my life? I was convinced the answers I needed to find were here inside me.
I found where I wanted to move quite by accident. The summer before, I took a road trip to visit my dad in Ohio. It was a long trip from New Hampshire all along I-80 in Pennsylvania to my dad’s in Ohio. At one point, I needed a gas station. I watched for signs and then I saw one for Punxsutawney.
Now, everyone knows what Punxsy is known for —the little rodent who predicts when spring is coming. I followed the signs, filled my gas tank, and spent a couple of hours there as a tourist. I fell in love with the quaint little town.
All throughout the downtown area are whimsical life-size color statues of the famous rodent personified as a policeman, fireman, baker etc. I was enchanted and I remember stopping a police officer and asking where the safest part of town would be if you lived there.
“Oh anywhere at all, Ma’am. We don’t have crime here to speak of. The most we ever get is when we have a celebration or a parade and the college kids come. Our population swells to about twice its size and the kids drink too much and get a little rowdy.”
When I got my divorce, I knew exactly where I would live. I had a newspaper and I made a few phone calls and found an apartment over the phone, sight unseen. It sounded great and the price was right, so that’s where I moved for a year.
I hadn’t lived alone for a long time. It would be different and I I’ll admit, I was frightened. Silence bothered me the most at first, so I filled my days with sound, even if only background music from the CD player. Often, I turned the TV on low and went to my desk to write, comforted by the muffled voices coming from the other room.
After a while, I realized I was the only one who could find what I had lost. The answers were inside me and to find them, I would have to face my fear of silence. Once I did that, I gave myself permission to heal and learn ….
Be honest and truthful with yourself.
If things go wrong —as they do sometimes, accept it and make the changes.
Trust yourself and your judgement.
Be a best friend to yourself and be kind.
Find the authentic you and decide what you want from life.
Decide who and what you need to cut out of your life to be happy.
Living alone does not mean you have to be lonely.
It’s all up to you. If you don’t do it, it won’t get done.
It wasn’t easy, but it was probably the best gift I ever gave myself.
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C.J.,
I love that through a very difficult change in life, you found yourself by taking a chance. Quite brave to step out into that kind of healing-your-life journey. That reconnecting to who you are is an amazing path to be on. Big hugs to you!
Many blessings and MUCH LOVE,
~Wendy💜
I like the idea of being spontaneous and selecting your own town, not one that someone else wanted you to pick. Being alone allows for a lot of self-examination, but it’s necessary to determine a plan for what comes after that. Sounds like a nice little town!