On Being Friends...With Myself

Some of you know, some of you don't know, but I've been living alone for the past 10 days. In a two bedroom apartment. Other than my single dorm-room in my first two years of university, which let's face it doesn't really count, I've never lived alone.

Let me tell you: when the weather gets gloomy, this basement of mine gets chilly - in more ways than one. It probably doesn't help my case that for the last 13 months, I've lived in the same apartment, but with a room mate. So to wake up and come home to an empty apartment is more than a little disconcerting. I've been feeling a little bit lonesome, which isn't helped any by spending days alone in my office.

And then yesterday, a friend told me something very interesting:

"It's a good time to learn how to be your own best friend."

Wow.
I let that sink in a bit.

Last night, I took myself out to a concert. A favourite female artist was in town, and I haven't seen her live in about 8 years and three albums. All of my friends were busy, but I really wanted to go, so I went alone.

And it was amazing. 

I sat in the back, beside an older gentleman who also came alone. I didn't really talk to anyone, just sat in this room full of people who enjoy the same music as I do. I think it would not have been so wonderful had I taken a friend who didn't know her music, who she was, or like her type of music - or wouldn't appreciate her hippie-dippy, earth hugging quality. It was nice to sit back and reflect on my own - kind of like going to the orchestra, which I found to be a pretty personal event, even though I went with a friend (hi T!) and nice that I didn't have to validate my appreciation to anyone. At the end of the night, I got up, asked the organizers for a schedule of upcoming artists, and went home. Alone. To listen to more of her music. (I'm still listening now, 18 hours later.)

All through the concert, I was thinking about what my friend had said earlier that day. What does it mean to be your own best friend? To me, this past week, it has been about doing the things I want to do, even if no one else is interested or available. My first year in this city has helped me grow into someone who can do that. It took me a year and a half to become someone who could eat alone in meal hall in my undergrad. This isn't to say that it's my favourite thing to do. Just that I've come to terms with the fact that not having people with (certain) similar interests isn't the worst thing, and doesn't mean that I have to miss out on my favourite things. I have one friend who would have come with me last night, but school and work kept him away. And that's OK. I never knew he liked this artist, so now it's something else we have in common, which is wonderful.

The one downside of becoming my own best friend: I have started to avoid social gatherings where I won't know a lot of people, something that's never really bothered me before. I don't know if it's the group of acquaintances I've developed out here, or just where I am in my life, but if I know there's going to be an event with a large group of people, all of whom know each other, I try to avoid. I haven't been home in a few months, so I can't say for sure, but I tend to think it has more to do with the group of people I know here. Or go for limited amounts of time. It's much more comforting to go home to a hot fireplace, a nice mug of tea (or wine!) and a good book. Sometimes, at least.

What are your thoughts on being your own best friend? Have you always been that way? Are you striving for it? How did you get there?