Mama, Go on a Solo Adventure

Against my best judgment, I went on a solo adventure last weekend...

I hate being alone for long periods of time.

Actually, I really just hate being alone at all. I have no idea why.

Maybe it means I'm an extrovert since I'd rather recharge my personal batteries on a coffee date with someone I love than by being alone, or maybe it means I have personal issues I need to deal with and can't stand being alone with myself long enough to see them. Sometimes it's probably a bit of both.

Whatever the reason, I've hated being alone for as long as I can remember. In fact, during my first year of college, I was given the assignment to tackle my most difficult personal challenge, and I chose to eat alone in a restaurant. It was horrible for me. I also remember living alone in an apartment with no roommates for a few months and suffering from severe insomnia because of my loneliness and discomfort. In fact, I only just started understanding why this is just too much for some of the people I love when I read Jamie Martin's amazing book The Introverted Mom earlier this summer. (Such a good book by the way, for introverts and extroverts who love them too.)

But last week I realized that my master's thesis was not going to write itself, and it wasn't going to be something I could do without a break from my normal weekend routine filled with all the good distractions of mom-life I normally love so much. I was crabby, snapping at the smallest of things, and I knew it was because I felt behind - so very behind.

I hated to admit it, but I couldn't do it all. I was struggling. 

In a moment of desperation, I said, "The best-case scenario would be for me to shut myself in a beach cottage for a few days and get this over with." 

And before I knew it, my husband was on Airbnb finding me a place in Rockland, Maine, and although I felt super guilty for spending the money on myself, I said yes, thinking that if I could just get over this hump, everything would be okay.

The next day I wanted to chicken out, but I wouldn't let myself.

I knew I needed it - for my project and for my soul.

So I went on a solo adventure.

While I wish I could tell you that it was filled with all the best hikes and beautiful scenic views from the highest mountains and that I had met the most interesting people who were going to somehow change my life forever, that is not what happened. Instead, I stayed in a tiny beach cottage with an Airbnb host I had never met before, and I closed myself in a room for hours on end, coming out only for fresh air, food, and exercise. 

I wrote until my eyes crossed.

I watched every sunrise and sunset in complete silence.

I made coffee for one every morning.

I walked into town and ate lunch at a restaurant all by myself each day.

I even ate steamed spinach for breakfast, pie for lunch, and cheez-its and hot tea for supper - something I would never do in my regular life.

I pretended to be a loner, spent a few hours looking at books in charming bookshops, bought two books I really didn't need and devoured them.

I wrote in my journal about all of the things God had been trying to speak to me for so long, but I had been too busy to listen.

And I cried because I missed my family and felt guilty for needing this time away.

I wanted to go home early, but I made myself stay.

I missed my husband and my kids in a way I never have before, and I knew it was good for me. I was learning something that would change me, and I couldn't cut it short.

There was no one else to hide behind, nothing to take the pressure off of myself, no way to pretend I was invisible or just a part of someone else's story. The story was just me all weekend long getting stuff done and searching for whatever God would say to me exactly the way a man with his head on fire searches for a bucket of water (as Elizabeth Gilbert would say).

And you know what? I survived. Actually, I did more than survive. 

I got over the hump in my project and came away with something that made me a better wife, mom, friend, sister - a better me better equipped for time with my family.

I came away with a big dose of gratitude.

I wanted to clean a sink of dishes the people I love had dirtied. I wanted to pick up toys off the floor, the couch, the bed, anywhere. I wanted to be distracted by the sound of "Mama, come look at this!" or "Hey honey, have you read this yet?" I wanted the mess that is my life- every single bit of it. In fact, I longed for it so much that my soul ached. 

At the end of the weekend, I breathed deep in my last moments of solitude. It was good to be going back home to my people, good to have such an intense longing for them, good to let this deep sense of gratitude and ache for them seep into my bones, and so good to know that I could sit there alone and be okay too. More than that, I could go home confident, strong, and comfortable in my own skin.

The truth is that during those days alone, I focused on my project and also on what God was saying to me, but I also started to realize just how much I've grown since my college days when I hated being alone so much. These people I get to spend my life with have changed me.

They have made me a better version of myself. 

I don't rely on them for my life's meaning or to have something to vicariously live through. I don't rely on them to take some of life's pressure off of myself. I rely on them because they rely on me, and I am stronger because of it.

I need them because they need me, and I'm better for it.

What holds you back from taking a solo adventure to refresh yourself?

Join the email group and shoot me a message - I'd love to chat about it.