JoeyJoelle

March 8th, International’s Women’s Day

I’m writing this as I’m sitting at Humphrey’s in a sea of people, surrounded by couples clinking glasses and groups lost in conversation.

And then there’s me; dressed for me.  By myself. Unbothered (okay, somewhat bothered by the conversation next to me) and ready to enjoy my own company.

You don’t have to be high sensitive to sense the lowkey confusion. Why is she by herself? Is she waiting for someone? Did she get stood up? Nope. I walked in by myself on purpose, because I actually like my own company.

This isn’t my first rodeo. I’ve been taking myself out for a minute. Doing this often has built a different level of confidence in me. There’s something about taking yourself out and handling things solo that makes you realize just how self-sufficient you are. You stop needing people’s presence to validate your experiences. It’s a quiet flex, really. When you know how to enjoy yourself, you move differently. You walk differently. You don’t shrink yourself in spaces just because you’re alone; you take up space on purpose.

And let’s be real, people are always gonna have something to say. At first, I used to overthink it. I’d feel like all eyes were on me, like folks were judging me. I would have my headset on, no matter where I was to block out others. But once I really sat with it, I realized…And what if they do? People will always watch, but that doesn’t mean I have to care. I stopped giving a fuck about what anybody thinks and started living for me. If I want to go to dinner, I go. If I want to hit up a museum, I go. Ain’t no waiting around. Just me and my own vibe.

And that’s the best part: I’ve learned to enjoy my own solitude. I used to experience being alone with being abandoned.  But nah, there’s peace in this. I can now actually sit in silence, lost in my own thoughts, without feeling attacked by my own thoughts. Or I can romanticize my own damn life and make it a whole experience. Just me, my food, my drink,  my own energy and well… In this case, my blog. And it’s more than enough.

So here I am, sipping my drink, savoring my meal, and feeling comfortable in my skin. Because the real flex?

Is knowing you’re enough, all on your own.

Cheers to that, babes.