Flying solo


Flying solo has never come naturally to me. I have always felt safer with company by my side, blending into the flock as a more confident flyer guides us.

This isn’t altogether a bad thing; it’s fun to fly with friends. However, if you are always following someone else, how will you ever gauge which direction you truly want to travel in?


The thought of doing an activity which is ‘supposed’ to be done as part of a group, like going out to dinner or the cinema, used to be enough to bring me out in a cold sweat. There will be many people who relate to this feeling and plenty who don’t. I have friends who will go out to a bar for a drink on their own without hesitation, and other friends who describe them as ‘brave’ for doing so.

The logical side of my brain knows that it is completely acceptable - entirely normal - to be seen in public having a nice time all by yourself. The anxious side disagrees. It hates the idea of being perceived as a loner, convinced that I’ll be harshly judged by others for being on my own.

Where this fear of flying solo comes from is a mystery, but that’s not my main concern. I’m more interested in how I can push past it. That’s why I made ‘Go on more solo dates’ one of my New Year’s Resolutions in 2024. And, much to my surprise, I actually stuck to it.

Anxiety vs. reality

When I first came up with this resolution, I wrote out a little list of solo adventures I wanted to go on; things I’d never done before on my own. I ticked each one of them off and, as I did, was reminded that my anxiety is not to be trusted…


 

My anxiety told me that people would watch me from the moment I stepped inside a cinema alone until the second I left, waiting irritatedly for me to be joined by a companion.

In reality, staring at a screen while not talking is a perfectly normal thing to do on your own. It does not provoke any kind of negative reaction. Even if someone in the audience wanted to gawk at you, a cinema is too dark for them to even see you.

 

 

My anxiety told me I would feel uncomfortable and obvious sitting in a park on my own, surrounded by groups of people laughing and being silly.

In reality, on a sunny day in a busy park, there are far more interesting things to look at than a tall man sitting on a picnic blanket (even if he is wearing a cute little outfit to make himself feel more confident).

 

 

My anxiety told me that going to the gym on my own was a bad idea because straight men would see me and judge me, and, worst of all, talk to me.

In reality, you don’t suddenly turn into a freak show when you enter a gym unaccompanied. There is no leering or guffawing. People are there to obsess about their ownbodies, not yours.

 

 

My anxiety told me that, if I went out for a meal by myself, the staff at the restaurant and other diners would all pity and mock me.

In reality… this one was a little comical, to begin with. The waiter shouted across the restaurant, “JUST ONE PERSON?’ to a colleague while holding a chair in the air, before showing me to my table, which was, of course, facing the wall and next to the toilet. This made me wish I didn’t exist for a moment, but by the end of the meal, I felt super comfortable and full of pasta.

 

The more solo dates I go on, the more evidence I gather that I am more than capable of enjoying time by myself in public, no matter what the melodramatic side of my brain says. As I have long suspected, my anxiety is a compulsive liar. The far-fetched fallacy it sold me was completely different from the reality that unfolded.

Write it down

The biggest solo adventure I have been on so far was a short break in Manchester. Three days all by myself in a super fun and creative city. It was a fun plan, but still, I struggled to get excited about it.

In the lead-up to the city break, once again, my anxiety started feeding me lies: I will be too busy overthinking things to enjoy anything while exploring a new city all on my own. And then I will have to come home and pretend to everyone that I had a wonderful time. It’d be easier not to go.

I knew how silly and untrue these thoughts were, but that didn’t make them any less distracting. In my experience, ignoring anxious thoughts doesn’t make them go away; it can often help them linger in the back of my mind for longer. Looking directly at anxiety is more likely to scare it off. I decided to keep a journal of my anxious thoughts, allowing me to see them for what they were - lies.

Any time I felt anxious, awkward or uncomfortable, I wrote down what I was thinking in the Notes app on my phone. It didn’t make my anxieties instantly vanish, but it did remind me of their size. Seeing your thoughts written out shows how small they are. You are so much bigger than your anxieties, even if you don’t always feel like it.


“You are so much bigger than your anxieties, even if you don’t always feel it.”


As the days went on, I had fewer anxious thoughts to jot down, and started noting down other things too. Little observations about the city of Manchester and quotes overheard from conversations between strangers (“Then I realised I was just a lesbian.” / “I love supermarkets.” / “That doesn’t look like it was new in 1957.”). All the things I would have spoken and laughed about with a friend had they been there with me. Notes of humour and intrigue sat happily amongst the worries.

I would recommend journaling at any time, but especially when you are in a situation which causes heightened anxiety. The simple act of writing out your thoughts helps declutter your mind. It also acts as a distraction; a task for your brain to focus on rather than overthinking everything going on around you.

And, in case you wondered, I had a lovely time in Manchester (and I promise I’m not just saying that). Solo trips can be equally as enjoyable as group holidays; they are just enjoyable in a quieter, more introspective way.

The little wins

I never want to give the impression that my anxiety is miraculously cured. When I first went to the cinema, I did feel a little awkward until the film started. How comfortable I feel in a gym varies from day to day. My anxiety was sky-high for the first 24 hours of my city break. The aim wasn’t to do all of these activities without having a single anxious thought; the aim was to still do them regardless of how anxious they made me feel.

When working on your anxiety, it is important to celebrate the little wins. Each of the solo dates I’ve been on so far, and the ones I plan to continue going on in future, is a little win. A victory for logic over anxiety. A step towards a less anxious existence.

No matter how far you travel, what matters most is that you’re moving forward. Flying solo might feel scary, but the freedom is worth the fear.

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