Mental Health, Loneliness, and Learning to Be OK Alone

I am trying to figure out how to be single again, and it is messing with my head more than I expected.

It has been two weeks of feeling really lonely. Not just the kind of lonely where you are bored, but the kind that sits in your chest and follows you from room to room. The kind that shows up when the house is quiet and there is no one to ask, how was your day, or to hear someone moving around in the background. Since the break up with Ryan, it feels like I have been learning a whole new version of myself, and honestly, I do not feel fluent in it yet.

I am lying on my bed, looking at my room, and it does not feel like a place you rest anymore. I moved most of my computer gear into here and now it looks like a uni student dorm room. It is a lounge room, a bedroom and an office all in one. There is no separation. No ritual of switching off. I work, I scroll, I think, I spiral, all in the same spot. And some nights that makes the dark thoughts feel closer, like they have nowhere else to go but here with me.

Being single is meant to sound empowering. Fresh start. New chapter. Rediscover yourself. But the real version of it, the unfiltered version, is sitting with your own mind when it is not being kind. It is having to face the parts of yourself you used to distract from. It is noticing how quickly your mental health can dip when you have too much silence and not enough softness.

I keep telling myself I want to be ok with being by myself. Not because I do not want love, but because I do not want to feel like I am falling apart just because I am alone. I want to be able to sit in my own space without feeling like it is swallowing me.

And here is the part that makes me pause, because I know better.

I am the person who coaches and develops leaders for a living. I tell people all the time that growth comes from being comfortable with being uncomfortable. I say it with conviction. I watch people nod like they are ready to be brave. I remind them that discomfort is not danger, it is just the doorway.

But lately I have not been taking my own advice.

Because being uncomfortable is one thing when it is a hard conversation at work, or stepping into a bigger role, or backing yourself in a room full of people. This discomfort is different. This is the discomfort of coming home to yourself when you are not sure you like the version of you that you meet at the moment. This is the discomfort of being single and realising you were using someone else’s presence as a buffer between you and your own feelings.

So I am trying a new approach.

Not fixing it overnight. Not forcing myself to be fine. Not pretending I am thriving when I am barely keeping my thoughts quiet. Just practising.

Practising being alone without abandoning myself.

Practising turning my room back into a place that feels safe and calm, even if it is messy right now.

Practising the smallest habits that make me feel steady, even when my emotions are not.

Practising saying, this is uncomfortable, but I can handle it.

I want to be ok with being by myself. I want to be able to sit in the quiet and not feel like it is a punishment. I want to trust that loneliness is a season, not a sentence.

And if I can coach other people through discomfort with patience and belief, then I can offer myself the same thing.

Even if it is only one night at a time.