Last week, I went to my ex-husband’s 85th birthday party at a local tavern. He looked terrific, and I was happy to see the turnout. We bought each other a beer, shared a hug and reminisced about meeting 40 years ago at a very similar pub.
When I left the party, I pushed aside a whiff of melancholy and thought instead about how much my life has changed since my marriage imploded seven years ago, when the fear of being alone almost paralyzed me. Truth is, I stayed in an unhappy marriage for too long because I couldn’t imagine being alone. Who would I take care of? Who would need me?
As it turns out, I’m a dog person – not strictly a cat person like my ex said we were. These days, it’s just my dogs who need me, and they return the favor with unending enthusiasm. I am not advocating for pets if you are lonely. They are a huge responsibility. But they do make us feel loved and less alone.
The fear of being alone is known as autophobia. When aloneness is forced on us, like in a sudden separation or the death of a partner, it creates a void which is tricky to fill. It also creates an opportunity to know ourselves better if we aren’t frozen by fear. I remember those staring-at-the-ceiling moments. How can this be happening to me? What am I going to do now? Woe is me.
We aren’t ready to make big decisions in those times. I know I wasn’t. I didn’t know if I wanted to rent or own. Heck, I wasn’t sure I wanted to stay in Florida. Impulsively, I bought an adorable camper, my she shed on wheels. I parked her near the beach and realized I’d been living someone else’s dream for way too long.
On one of many sleepless nights staring at the camper ceiling, I checked email and found a scholarship invitation to a conference by author Mike Dooley. I felt like the universe was conspiring with me as I filled out the application. In two weeks, I was on my way to Denver for the conference based on his book, “Infinite Possibilities: The Art of Living Your Dreams.”
That was a turning point. What if I’d been afraid to take the chance? I’d done some crazy things since then. I’ve gone back to college. I took sailing lessons. I joined the community concert band. I volunteered as a gate lady for Pittsburg Pirates’ Florida Spring Training games. I faced my fears and started a new career as I muddled through what turned out to be a good divorce. Yes, there is such a thing.
When we first heard of a fast-spreading virus, I became very weak and found it hard to walk. But it wasn’t Covid. I had to quit spring training when my doctor found a tumor on my spine. The timing was perfect. Even spring training shut down because of the pandemic, and I watched it all on TV in a hospital room where I could have no visitors. Spoiler alert: today, my health is perfect.
Everyone was afraid. Me, the doctors and nurses, all the patients. My family, hundreds of miles from me, was so afraid for me they didn’t want to tell my almost 90-year-old mom for fear she’d worry herself sick. Girl, I needed my mom then more than ever.
I wish she hadn’t seen the pandemic. We had a big birthday party planned for her. Instead, she celebrated locked alone in her assisted living apartment. She did get out before she died and drove her scooter to a nearby brewery to meet my brother for pizza and beer. She looked so happy in that last photo. Her fear was gone.
I fell hard for the guy who helped me home from the hospital and checked on me while I recuperated. We didn’t date because the world was shut down. The only place I went for six weeks was daily chemo as I grew stronger. That’s when I got my pup Lassie and started walking again.
With him I felt comfortable. It was nice having someone to cook for and care for. We fell in love as a family and moved in together.
But it was too soon for me. I still needed to learn how to be alone. He’s got his own place now, but we’re still best friends and share custody of two Australian shepherds. We usually spend part of each weekend together sharing meals, sports and chores. But we each appreciate our own space.
There’s so much to enjoy about living alone: coming home and finding everything just as we leave it; cleaning the house or playing music in the middle of the night if we can’t sleep; eating what and when we want or going out instead. Having a cocktail and a good meal sitting at the bar beats a dating app any day in my book.
It is likely to happen to all of us sometime in our lives: being suddenly alone. It takes getting used to. Then it becomes bearable. Then it feels like freedom. I’m never one to say never, but I wouldn’t be afraid to.
Cheers!
What has alone-ness brought you? Do you know yourself better now?
Tags Solo Living
Starting Weekend Reflection — Share Your immagini buongiorno sabato nuove to Uplift Each Other
Hi everyone — I’ve been reading and thinking about all the thoughtful comments here about finding joy and purpose in this stage of life. The way so many of you have shared real experiences and emotions about being alone or rediscovering yourselves after big changes has been truly inspiring.
One small thing that’s helped me on tough mornings is gathering a few immagini buongiorno sabato nuove(fresh good‑morning Saturday images) that reflect peaceful scenes, uplifting quotes, or serene moments. Seeing these first thing on a Saturday sets a positive tone and gives me a moment of calm before I jump into errands, hobbies, or just some reflective time for myself.
I’ve collected a handful of gentle morning visuals that always make me smile and help me focus on gratitude and the small joys in my day. I shared them here — immagini‑buongiorno — not to sell anything, but just in case anyone else wants a little visual pick‑me‑up to start their Saturday with intention.
What kind of morning routines or visuals have helped you greet the weekend with a bit more peace or joy? I’d love to hear; perhaps we can build a little weekly ritual together here! 🌞
— Warm wishes from a fellow reader
Wow! I so relate to this story. I had a similar one & absolutely struggled with being alone. Time and self-care have gotten me to a contented & guilt free existence. Retiring from a fulfilling career & then moving on from a 40 year marriage was daunting & I worried that I would end up lonely, wracked with guilt for leaving my husband & dismissed as an old person. Just keep moving forward, a little bit at a time & find the things that bring you joy!
I was widowed in October 2022 after 34 years of marriage (36 years together in all). We had our ups and downs – I wonder what they were now because my husband was the sweetest man ever. He was my rock, made me feel safe, I was his number one in life, and he was mine. Sadly, after retiring and moving states, which I did not want to do – I said things I deeply regret – he was diagnosed with Stage IV metastatic bladder cancer, which he fought for two years (fortunately, out of it all we were near (70 miles away) a National Cancer Institute – this was during Covid. I miss him terribly. I am adjusting to being alone now – no children, no family in this country, but I am close to my in-laws, thankfully. I have no interest in meeting anyone else. I volunteer, exercise, walk my neighbor’s dog, and have some friends in the same situation as myself. I just take it one day at a time, try not to look into the future too far ahead.
Excellent article! Alone-ness has brought me happiness, confidence and a feeling that it is certainly okay to be alone! When my beloved husband died 18 years ago I was suddenly alone. It was an odd feeling. After almost 10 years, I met someone I thought I would spend the rest of my life with. Unfortunately, he was a full fledged narcissist. I finally got out of that toxic marriage, it took 2 years and was awful, but it was so worth it. I am alone and honestly enjoying it more than I thought. I am happy with myself and my alone-ness and I am thankful for the life I now have.
My dog is great company. Who takes care of them when you are gone for medical appointments & long times away?
I have a dear friend who stays at my house with the dogs when I visit family. I got a lot of travel out of my system before I brought dogs into my home. I seldom leave them for more than a three hours.