I recently went where the majority of college students may not find themselves on a Saturday night: a movie theater — and not on a date or with a group of people.
I’m aware that seeing “Crazy Rich Asians” by myself on a weekend isn’t exactly a revolutionary or miraculous act of independence. But in this era, where instead of doing something alone in public we can very easily opt to stay in and solo-scroll through Netflix or Amazon Prime for hours on end, my experience reminded me of the importance of not just spending time alone, but of learning to enjoy it.
As I sat in the hushed theater with my tennis shoes sticking to the soda-coated floor and watched couples and groups of all ages file into the rows, I ripped open the foil wrapper of my York Peppermint Pattie with a sense of delight. Wow — this is great, I thought. I’m not worried about what the other person or people I’m with are thinking throughout the film, and I don’t have to worry about whether or not my hand is too sweaty for a hand-holding situation.
Most of all, though, having those two hours of pure, uninterrupted, fictional bliss to myself was great. Rejuvenating, even. There was also something notable about the whole experience — driving to the theater at sunset alone (with my Pure 80s CD on repeat, since I probably have one of the last cars on the road without an aux cord) and saying “one adult” at the ticket counter. Even leaving the theater and recapping the film in my head — instead of partaking in the obligatory “So… what did you think?” conversations that basically have to happen after every movie — was different, but nice.
It made me think about how not just spending time alone, but actually cherishing time spent by ourselves, is often perceived by my generation as something that falls under the oh-so-ambiguous (and overused) umbrella term of “adulting.”
However, I think becoming our own best friends doesn’t have to be (and shouldn’t be) something that’s solely reserved for our post-grad lives.
So much of our routines in this so-called college bubble are shaped by the people we surround ourselves with, which is special and what makes our experiences unique. That being said, it’s not a crime to take a breather from the same groups of people 24/7.
Taking time for ourselves is an important part of making the most of our relationships, whether romantic or platonic, because in order to fully be present and to fully cherish the company of other people we love, we should be happy with who we are first.
Whether your idea of “me time” means reserving a half-hour each morning for coffee, reading or journaling, allotting time to exercise or go for a walk, partaking in a nightly skin care ritual — or even saying no to plans when you know you need to work on your own projects or deadlines — it’s vital that we carve out little moments and experiences we can enjoy on our own.
One of the biggest lessons I’m thankful I learned early on in my college career was to not get bogged down by FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out). It’s often easier said than done — especially in our fast-paced culture, where social media posts and updates can easily pave the way for self-comparison or feelings of not measuring up. But I’d argue being secure with ourselves and learning to enjoy time spent alone now will only make us more adaptable and confident when transitioning to post-grad life.
The truth is that while taking time for yourself may not lead to a night of wild memories, share-worthy Snapchat stories or Polaroids to be pasted in a photo album (or posted on Instagram) to relish in the future, it’s important we learn to find happiness even in the little moments we have alone, as those rituals are what will help us recharge, reflect and enjoy the experiences we do share with others.
Darcy Schild is a UF journalism senior. Her column appears on Wednesdays.
