I might be late to talk about being alone for the holidays, but I just felt it.
I’m not one who needs someone by her side to feel wanted, or important, or significant.
I’m fine with watching The Abominable Bride alone on a Friday night. I’m happy with watching Friends with my Sunday brunch. And it never mattered to me that the Friday was Christmas, or the Sunday was Valentines Day. Because for me, they are just holidays.
But as I saw my friends, colleagues, and almost everyone else I know go home for the holidays, or ride to the city of alcohol to celebrate New Year’s Eve, I felt strange.
Strange — not lonely. I will never accept I’m lonely when I’m alone. I know the difference between the two and revere personal space. I wasn’t lonely, but I felt so “ungrown-up.”
Everyone I knew wanted to spend time with their spouses, children, and parents. When did everyone around me grow up so fast?
Now that I think of it, almost all of my acquaintances and friends are couples. They are either already married with kids on the way, or are just about to get married.
As for the single ones I know, they are too generous to barmaids to grow up.
Wondering about the strangeness of it all, I realized the people who went home to their spouses and kids at 6pm are the same ones who once accompanied me when I pulled an all-nighter. They were the first to volunteer to stay back and clean up after a party, they were the ones who’d take up customer calls from a different time zone and conduct midnight webinars. And now, by 6 pm, they’re gone from the office.
But I’m still here. And I still feel strange. But that doesn’t stop me from munching on some fried snack, drinking a cup of coffee, and laughing at Friends while nodding my approval at “Joey doesn’t share food.”