There’s this thing is Spanish where you add “ito” or “ita” to the end of a word and it makes it little. If you take casa, which means house, and make it casita, it becomes little house. This ending is usually meant to imply size or even cuteness, but under some circumstances it can be very condescending; one case I particularly hate is solita, which basically transforms “by yourself” or “alone” (sola) into “you poor thing have no one to sit with” (okay not exactly, but you get the idea).

For reasons I have yet to comprehend, solitude is severely underrated and stigmatized. I understand we are social animals and I personally enjoy people’s company, conversations with strangers and partying as much as the next person, but I also really enjoy my time by myself (so much in fact that sometimes while I am having lunch I pray that no one I know will want to join me). I am not expecting everyone to feel the same way, and if you’re the type of person who would never eat by yourself I totally respect that; I just don’t understand why so many people feel sorry for you when they see you are by yourself.

I used to not like being by myself because in all honesty it made me feel insecure somehow, but with time I realized how valuable time alone is. It was probably after I read “Quiet” by Susan Cain that I started paying attention to how much I enjoyed it. (Her argument is that there are people who charge energies around other people, and people who charge energies by being alone, and against all odds, being the social butterfly that I am, I identify with the latter). I started spending at least 30min completely by myself each day (no homework, no phone), just to see how it affected my mood, and soon it became a habit. While I was by myself I not only recharged batteries, but I also felt compelled to think about things: my goals, my relationships, what I really wanted to do. Conversing with others is fun and can generate great ideas, but at some point you are just repeating versions of someone else’s thoughts. In her TED talk Susan Cain mentions how individual work is often more creative and produces better results than group work. I think this concept of solitude inspiring creativity can be applied to a lot of other things beyond work.

Besides every scientific benefit there is to spending time alone, there is one that, to me, is extremely valuable: you are not bound to do only what other people are willing to do with you. There is something refreshing about not having to wait for others to do what you want to do, and although there's things I would definitely rather do with other people, there are others which I have come to enjoy by myself. You feel like having lunch? Go have lunch. You feel like watching the game at a bar? Go sit down and order a beer. There’s a movie you want to see that no one else is interested in? Well you’re in luck cause who cares if no one else wants to come. Once you start enjoying things for the sake of doing them and stop caring about what people think (still working on this sometimes), you realize you can do whatever you want.

My ultimate solo experience was a trip to Greece last fall and it was probably one of the best trips I’ve taken. I was on no one’s schedule. I would sit by myself with a view of the ocean and order a cold beer with my food. I would walk the streets and change plans as I went and I enjoyed every second of it. I have friends who tell me they “couldn’t do that” and I guess they’re trying to say “didn’t you get bored spending all that time by yourself?” but I’ve learned to enjoy my own company, my own thoughts and the vibes of the places and people around me.

What I hate the most of being alone is people assuming I have no choice and feeling sorry for me.

You might find me at the movies with a large bucket of popcorn and no one to share with but what you can’t see is that I wouldn’t have it any other way. It might be uncomfortable at first, and it’s hard to push the “what will everyone say” out of your mind, but you can grow and learn so much by spending a little time on your own.

Next time you see me by myself, don’t say I’m solita; give it a try instead.