Aloneness is okay (especially when Shark Week and Olympic Trials are on TV)

I’ve come a long way. 

I used to avoid dining in restaurants alone, afraid that other (mostly business travelers) would judge me as a lonely woman too ____________ to get a date.  I was wearing wedding rings and was probably texting my husband the whole time while I ordered a quick beer and waited for my carry-out grilled chicken sandwich (no mayo) to be ready so I could eat in my hotel room in relative peace.  I hated the stares, the weirdness, and well, the judging. 

Turns out it was just me judging myself.  Image that. 

I’ve been on the road WAY more than I care to have been…between Rome, Chicago, Minneapolis, Philly, Little Rock, Boca Raton, Atlanta, Orlando, and…wherever else I’ve been on business lately…am [finally] no longer worried about others judging me. 

Who the hell cares?  I’m going to be that woman who sits at the upscale bar, orders a glass of chardonnay, and eats something wonderful off the menu.  Guess what?  At upscale hotel bars, EVERYONE is a business traveler.  If you gaze around the bar, everyone’s face is illuminated by the subtle blue glow of their iPhone, reflecting their perusing of FB, Reddit “shower thoughts,” or texts from loved ones.  I’m not alone as I send a covert Snapchat to my husband, explaining my menu choice that may or may not have way too much garlic.  Even when I eat "high on the hog," my bill is rarely more than $35. 

As Aerosmith says, "I'm livin' on the edge." 

I remember going to Chicago when I was first “minted;” I had to attend a conference in Skokie.  I thought I was hot shit because I managed to leave the hotel on foot, walk two blocks, pass by a Crate and Barrel (where I, of course, bought some glassware), and find a McCormick and Schmidt’s.  Where I found a colleague.  Saved!  No eating alone!

One time I traveled to Minneapolis alone.  Jack and I had just discovered craft brews and I located a local Irish pub (huh?) that served 50+ craft brews.  I had new territory to navigate.  My conference did not start until the morning (it was 2 p.m.) but a respectable woman didn’t have more than one beer at a bar, right?  Later that night, I found a sushi restaurant that served an all-you-can-eat extravaganza that consisted of little sushi belts floating by you on a little faux river.  Here comes the salmon!  Grab it!  I was sitting near a couple with young kids and I was humbled by the kids knowing way more than I did about sushi.  One actually helped me find an unagi that I wouldn’t hate.  I had to rely on a little kid to get me through my aloneness.

Once, I flew to Philly alone.  I finally got up the nerve to seek out the nearest Philly Cheesesteak.  It was worth the search and I loved it.  It was the first time I went to a large city on business and didn't feel completely awkward/pathetic while walking around alone.  I used to feel like such a target, like everyone was wondering why I was without companionship.  Co-dependent much?  Maybe.  I have come to realize that solo travel is not for the faint of heart.  You gotta have faith...and confidence. 

One time I traveled to Rome alone.  Wait, that was four times.  I think the proverbial challenging of one’s comfort zone really helps.  I figured out how to shop, walk, and go out alone in Rome – not a feat for the doubting – and survived.  So after being in Rome alone, Chicago feels like no big deal. 

So that’s where I was tonight.  Doctor school let out early tonight, at 4:30 p.m., and the class decided to go out to a local eatery to celebrate our collective awesomeness.  Or something.

I wasn’t game.  I wasn't feeling it.  I have been with people for the last…um…138 days straight (or so it feels) and I simply could not fake it through another evening; fake-laughing at jokes or fake-appreciating peoples’ kid stories’, or fake-appreciating the tenured physicians’ stories from fellowship and how they hate their administrators.

I finally know myself well enough to know when I need a break.  Better that than sitting like a crab in the corner, cursing people when they order another drink and ALL YOU WANT TO DO is go to bed. 

No peeps. 

I could have blamed it on the lasagna that totally upset my stomach this afternoon (everyone at this medical school seems to be a vegetarian and only drinks “Fiji” water…whatever…I’ll drink that crappy Lake Michigan tap water).   I could have blamed it on budgets.  But I told my professor that I needed space.  I couldn’t even elaborate before he said, “I’m glad you know yourself so well and what your soul needs during this time.” 

Sold.

Thanks, Doc.

So after talking to Jack, showering and relaxing, I took my tired rear down to the nice, dark wood hotel bar, had a buttery chardonnay, a lovely caprese flatbread, kept to myself, and considered it a win. 

A quick word about the “doc” thing.  I keep calling this program “doctor school,” yes, because I’m becoming a doctor through my studies.  But I’m surrounded by medical students, moving from class to class like the rest of us did in high school.  Their “normal” is pretty amazing…going to school from 8-3 or so and then going to the hospital for work on the units until 10 or 11 p.m.  It feels as though there are two types of people roaming around campus, those in scrubs and those teaching them (who are sometimes in scrubs).  It’s my first major experience in a medical school and guess what?  The students all seem insecure, unsure of themselves, maybe not-so-confident at times. 

People accepted to one of the best medical schools in America are still insecure.  They’re probably all Type A, first-born, overachievers.  But if the cream of the crop is insecure, what about the rest of us? 

Can’t we just own our “spot” where we are right now?  It dawned on me today, sitting in the medical school, listening to tenured physicians and professors talk about demanding situations, that I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. 

What if we all decided that we are exactly where we are supposed to be? 

That's my plan for today.  Wherever you go, go confidently!