Mini Episode 14: How do you navigate through the intensity of aloneness?

For today’s mini episode, Jackie chose a question about loneliness, partly because the holiday season can feel quite lonely for so many reasons, for so many people, and she thought it might help to hear that you aren’t alone.

They write:

How do you navigate through the intensity of aloneness?

Tune in to hear how Jackie explores this week's question and make sure to listen until the end to hear the question we will be diving into on the next episode. And if you feel inspired to respond to this asker and are interested in being a guest of this episode, OR if you have a short word of wisdom for them, write to us on the contact page on youandipodcast.com or DM us on instagram at @youandi.podcast.

Episode Resources:

Jackie Kai Ellis: Website / Instagram

You & I Podcast: Website

Resources on finding trusted professional help can be found here.

  • The following transcript was automatically generated. Please be aware that it may contain errors. Thank you for your understanding.

    Welcome to You & I.

    I am Jackie Kai Ellis and it’s my genuine hope that through sharing our most vulnerable stories, we know, in the moments where it matters so much, that we are not alone.

    DISCLAIMER:

    It needs to be said, I am not a professional, just someone with some personal experience to share. I do hope this is helpful, but as always, take the advice that resonates and ignore what doesn't. And don’t hesitate to seek out professional help through a trusted source. We have resources on our website.

    QUESTION INTRO:

    For today’s mini episode, I chose a question about loneliness, partly because the holiday season can feel quite lonely for so many reasons, for so many people, and I thought it might help to hear that you aren’t alone.

    They write:

    How do you navigate through the intensity of aloneness?

    I turned 40 this year and on the eve of my birthday I went though a devastating breakup. Although I’ve gone through breakups before and even a divorce, I don’t recall this depth and intensity of aloneness that I’ve experienced since the relationship ending. Maybe it’s because I’m older now, but the intensity of this feeling is sometimes overwhelming. While I do have deep friendships to lean on and I have wonderful friends, it’s not filling this longing for that kind of intimacy.

    I’ve been sitting in this discomfort, longing and aloneness for 10 months, I want to know how to move through this. I feel secure in knowing who I am but is this something I need to discover within myself or is this feeling part of processing loss?

    Thanks, M

    ANSWER

    Dear M,

    When I was living in Paris, I had this beautiful, slow-paced routine that I still daydream about from time to time. Especially in moments now when life feels extra hectic with a toddler and family in and out of my house all day long. Sometimes it feels like I live in a train station with crowds passing through and leaving their garbage. Even though I wouldn’t have it any other way, I do think fondly of a time when I could find things in the same place I left them and when there wasn’t always something sticky on the kitchen counter.

    During this magical, nearing mythical time, I remember waking up naturally with sunrise after many hours of uninterrupted sleep. There was no one waking me up with their snoring, no one to play a blanket tug-of-war with. I'd luxuriate in bed, solo, in the middle, with a gratuitous number of pillows fanned around me.

    I’d get up with the lively music of Paris in the background – the honking commuters and bike bells tinkling – I’d make a single cup of coffee, ground in a mill by hand and sprinkled evenly into a filter with a perfectly patina-ed silver spoon I’d bought at a brocante. I’d take a pause to appreciate the stillness while my coffee lazily dripped into a carefully chosen, ridiculously expensive mug that I felt confident owning, because I knew without a shadow of a doubt that no one would ever lay their hands on this mug, except for me.

    Some days I’d slip back into bed, still warm from sleep. Other days, I’d sip on my coffee in the bathtub, with windows open. I’d listen to the news, and feel the tingle of a summer breeze on my skin and sit in the warm water until my coffee was done.

    I’d eat unfussy, but pretty, meals for one – a thick slice of good bread with ripe tomatoes and herbs or homemade labneh scattered with chive flowers. Sometimes I’d sit in the crook of the window people-watching, and sometimes I’d eat over the kitchen sink…but wherever I ate it, I ate what I wanted, when I wanted.

    I’d work, text, listen to music, do chores, and when the sun went down, I’d watch something on netflix with a glass of wine and realize I would not have said a word all day. Sometimes I wouldn’t have spoken for days.

    Those were solitary, beautiful, peaceful, predictable, years…but I was also incredibly alone and lonely. So lonely that sometimes those beautiful solitary moments were painted ever so slightly bluer. Sometimes the beauty was just a reminder that I didn’t have anyone to share it with.

    It had been so long since I had had a relationship that felt safe, and comfortable. The kind where you and your partner have lived so many mundane moments together that you can say things like, “what’s the place down the street from the place I like the apple juice?” or you can say before leaving the house, “I left the thing on the thing,” and your partner replies, “Your cell phone is in my pocket.”

    Now, like you M, I had friends, many of them, amazing friends, ones that are like a chosen family. I had acquaintances, I had work, I had parties, I had hobbies. I traveled, I was always creating and learning, I had a strong sense of myself, my life, my passions, strengths and weaknesses, my desires, but I understand you, I too, still longed for this particular kind of intimacy.

    I remember thinking that I had lived such a fulfilling life, that the only thing left that I truly wanted to experience before I died, was the kind of love that is so quotidian that it would feel boring. The kind where you get annoyed by the silly little things because everything big is, in fact, just perfect.

    Now, I dated for years and years looking for someone I wanted to build this kind of connection with. I dated tall guys, short guys, young guys, old guys, men of all personalities, nationalities, backgrounds, you name it. I had never really dated until I was about 37 and so, having little experience, I wanted to be open-minded, and open to the idea that I could be pleasantly surprised. I mean, I even went on a date with a woman, who was really the best catch of them all, but it didn't work out because we were in very different places in life, and because she had a particular accent in French I couldn’t understand for the life of me, so I’d miss half of our conversations, which really didn’t work.

    After many years alone, I was often asked why I was single. Some people offered that it was because I was too picky, some said I was too independent, some said maybe I was the common denominator and that there must be something I needed to fix in myself, some said it was all timing and not to stress…that someone would come the moment I stopped looking, and others said I needed to keep at it and keep dating. Deep down, I couldn’t help but feel like maybe there was something wrong with me, maybe it was something that I needed to discover within myself, as you say M, that maybe I was getting too comfortable being alone for too long, or I thought maybe I just wasn’t destined to find love again, and that that was not what I envisioned for my life, but that I could also be okay if it were true.

    I guess I tell you all this M, just to say that I understand the pain of aloneness, and that you’re not alone in that. That we can enjoy the beauty of solitude and also feel incredibly alone. That we are human and wanting that kind of intimacy is perfectly normal. That the loneliness feels wrong, and embracing it often feels like trying to force puzzle pieces to fit together, there’s always a part that feels too tight and a sliver of a hole somewhere else, and that this discomfort provokes a lot of questions about what’s “wrong” and how to “fix” it.

    I can’t say I ever figured out the answers to my questions, even after a lot of soul searching. I never decided if it’s true that some people are just destined to be alone, and if I was one of them. Because, even in my relationship now, the kind that feels cozy and comfortable and boring and hectic and annoying and perfect, I know we both feel alone sometimes, and I don’t know if that’s normal, if others feel that too, or even if it needs to change.

    I’m sorry I don’t have answers for you, but whether it’s something you need to discover in yourself, or a part of processing loss, or if it’s more acute because now you are old enough to know more precisely what you want, and feel more precisely the absence of it, whatever it is, there is never harm in curiosity, in wondering and observing. There’s no harm in exploring it with a therapist or counselor, I do so regularly. But in case clarity doesn’t come as quickly as you’d like, my only advice would be to do everything you can to make the loneliness bearable.

    Be kind and tender and generous and loving to yourself. Discover the things you love, things that inspire you, that heal you, that nourish you and use those things to create your beautiful solitude. Create routines that involve mugs that are too expensive, or not needing to utter a word if you don’t want, take baths while eating something scattered with an edible flower maybe for no reason but that aloneness is hard and painful, and in the least we can make solitude beautiful..

    END:

    Thank you M. I hope you got something helpful out of this…if anything, know that you’re not alone. You see, we all struggle, mourn, yearn, question, laugh and cry. No matter our age, background, or titles, at our core, we are all not so different, You & I.

    OUTRO: [music]

    Incase you missed it in the last episode, check out next month’s question on our homepage.

    If you feel inspired to respond to this asker and are interested in being a guest of this episode, OR if you have a short word of wisdom for them, write to us on the contact page on youandipodcast.com or DM us on instagram at @youandi (DOT) podcast. And of course, please submit your questions there too.

    If you enjoyed this episode, like and subscribe to our channel, which helps others who might be interested, find us. And feel free to share this episode with someone who may find it helpful as well. Thank you for joining us today. I’m Jackie Kai Ellis, this is you and I.

    Music ends

    This podcast was produced and edited by More Good Media.

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Episode 15: As an aspiring author, how do I get vulnerable when writing about my life?

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Episode 13: How can we learn to be comfortable, with being uncomfortable?