Hello you!
An Instagram post grabbed my attention this week. It reads ‘an epidemic of loneliness has been generated by the misguided idea that the only alternative to feeling alone is to be in a romantic relationship’. If you do hop over to Instagram for a nosy be sure to read the caption and the comments as these are equally as interesting to unpick. So many of us are feeling lonely right now, and that includes those in relationships. This post reminded me how my loneliest moments have been when I was surrounded by people, loved ones even.
I’m writing to you from a converted static caravan a few meters from the sea in St Ives, Cornwall right now. Hope and I have jetted off on a mini seaside break…just us. We’re alone. The rain is pouring down but we’ve made ourselves cosy, lit a fire and put the kettle on. This isn’t my first time travelling by myself. I started years ago, when I was married. I read a blog post about a couple of solo nights away without internet were great for productivity. It wasn’t just getting a load of content created that made me book though, I felt a pull to increase my independence as well as get lots of writing done distraction free. I felt excited to travel alone. Why?
Driving down the motorway I can remember my hands shaking on the wheel because I was so nervous, unsure of my ability to navigate the journey, fearful of all the potential dangers that never came to light. Mile by mile I was literally driving out of my comfort zone. I’ve come a long way since. The 7 hour drive to Cornwall didn’t phase me, I sang like a Grammy award winner for most of the way and called in at my favourite service stations for a pit stop. I have so much more faith in myself than I used to, and it feels so good. My solo travel adventures since my first shaky attempt have been some of the most memorable trips yet, hopefully this one will be the same.
It’s only now I believe excitement and nervousness are the same emotion and we shouldn’t let our nerves rule our actions. Those butterflies can be a sign we’re growing just as much as they can be a signal for danger. There is no growth without a little discomfort at least. It’s good to push ourselves through the uncomfortable, especially if we feel drawn to what might be on the other side. For me that was feeling independent, free and confident in what I’m capable of.
Just like our nerves and excitement can be a sign post to make a change because we want more for ourselves, so can our loneliness. Last week I had an ugly encounter with feeling lonely when I was laid in bed trying to sleep. I felt more alone that I have in a long time. I felt so alone I began to feel panicked, frightened even. I reminded myself how I’ve felt the exact same way laid in bed next to another before, so just as the school of life reassured me, a romantic relationship isn’t the only answer to this pain I can feel. What I’ve learned from firstly traveling alone and now living alone is the the more connected I feel to myself the less loneliness I encounter, and living alone has taught me how to self-partner in a way I never knew how to before - the loving way. This looks like taking care of myself the way I would take care of someone I treasure as best I can.
Sitting here writing to you I’m reminded how important it is to learn to be alone and how much we can benefit from it. Of course we need meaningful connections, meaningful being the operative word, with others to achieve a fulfilling life but we also need a strong connection to ourselves and I would argue this comes first. A strong healthy connection with ourselves is the foundation all our other connections are built on and so it makes sense this should be the priority. Perhaps the loneliness we’re all feeling is a glimmer of intuition calling on us to do just that?
If you are feeling lonely right now, please know it’s not just you. Reach out to those you feel safe with, make the effort to connect in ways other than messages but also don’t be afraid to connect with the person who can make you feel instantly less alone and infinitely more loved, heard and seen - yourself. Maybe ask yourself what is this feeling trying to tell me? and then without fear or judgement, listen to the answer.
Lots of love
Jessica xxx
What’s been adding value this week
- I can’t write to you from Cornwall without sharing where I’m staying. This little cabin is available via KIP hideaways, a travel company I’m working with while I’m here and think you’ll love
- This poem was sent to me via DMs on Instagram and with the writer’s permission I wanted to share it with you. Louise can be found @thecalmfolk on Instagram…
Hello There, Said the Robin
as Bea sat under a tree.
I can feel your sadness,
would you like to share with me?
Settle into Mother Nature, She always seems to heal.
Lay down under my tree here,
Its where youl’ feel most real.
I don’t share my tree with anyone,
Only those who are in flow
With the rhythm of the countryside
Where happy feelings grow
Take off your socks and shoes
Walk barefoot in the grass
Lie down and watch the clouds above, Allow the feeling to pass
Your sadness might feel lighter If you share or let it go
Find comfort under a sunbeam
Feels its warm and gentle glow
Il sit right here beside you
Until you’re ready to leave
Sometimes you may not feel it
But love surrounds you, just believe
Go dance among the bluebells To the song that sings inside
Go be exactly who you are
Don’t shy away and hide
Go boldly out into the world
Don’t ever feel too small
You have all your gifts within you
And the courage to stand tall...
I remember when I left a long-term relationship, the hardest part was learning to be with myself. I never thought of myself as an individual, but always as a partner. That relationship was my identity and once it was gone, it felt like I was too. The one thing I told myself not to do was jump into another relationship to feel fulfilled, to feel whole, but to give that time and attention I would someone else to me. Best decision I've made.
This was nourishing and resonated so deeply, beyond just "love yourself" messages which seem to make me feel emptier and emptier each time I come across them.