Today I decided to enjoy my own company. After class this morning, I got in my car and drove to the mall. Yes, I have been to the mall by myself many times, but what made this time different is that I leisurely shopped. I didn’t have a purpose or a specific thing I needed. I roamed the mall at my own pace, tried on clothes and valued my own opinion when I thought something looked good. Shopping, to most girls, is social. We go together, ask each other’s opinions, and bond over clothes and accessories. But today I did not have Miranda or Linnea to help me, instead Colette, the sale’s associate in the shoe department at Macy’s, helped me pick out a gorgeous pair of chocolate brown boots. After my purchases (don’t worry mom I used my Christmas gift cards), I ordered a soup and salad from Panera where I sat by myself until every last morsel of my lunch was eaten. While taking the last bite of my caesar salad, I looked up and saw another girl around my age eating alone. We made eye contact and smiled as an understood silence passed between us.
It got me thinking about how much we fear being alone in society. For what? The label? Fear of ourselves? We fill up conversations with mindless chatter in order to avoid surreal silence. But have you ever seen a couple who is truly in love out in public? Not the new kind of love, but rather the old kind. They are not holding hands, stealing kisses, or babbling about what they ate or drank that day. Instead they are still; silently enjoying each other’s company. This brings me back to when I was a little girl. Saturdays were a magical day for me, not only was there no school, but both mom and dad were home all day. In the morning, before I entered into my sleepy teenage years, if I got up early enough I would see my mom sitting at the dining room table in her worn out teddy bear bathrobe, and next to her was my dad. They would both have steaming cups of coffee along with the weekend paper. Dad would most likely be doing the crossword and mom would be intently reading the stories. Sporadically mom would read aloud something that was worth interest to my Dad and he would listen and nod his head in response. Fourteen years or so later when I come home from school on the weekends, I wake up and round the corner to the dining room---there is my mom in that same old teddy bear bathrobe, reading the newspaper and my dad is finishing the crossword next to her. There is a true comfort in returning home and seeing that things have not changed. Sometimes I just like to watch them be still together. When I think of love that’s what I picture. Peace like that. Now tell me what’s to fear about that?
As I write this entry in Starbucks, I am now accompanied by Miranda. My afternoon by myself has ended, but I am pleasantly surprised by the calmness I feel at being alone. Looks like enjoying my own company will be a reoccurring thing because as it turns out I make pretty good company. :)
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