The ideal family holiday? Away from the family. Knowing that they are well and supposedly having a much better time than me – left here to look after pets, home, and work; I dropped them off at the airport with a light heart.
This spring, I had two weeks of not having to worry about other people. I could run my house just to accommodate myself and said pets. One of them is a quiet budgie, the other one is a dog. Easy.
I was looking forward to this for a long time. I don’t understand people who fear time alone. I would sometimes remember that I had been at my happiest when I had been single and lived alone. Most of my happy moments were when I was quite alone. High up in the mountains, or somewhere else but outside, and most of the time alone. Or surrounded by strangers. Also, living on my own has been important for happiness. Having a little nest that was only mine. Stretching on the first bed I’d ever bought, long and wide enough to fit my height, chosen by me, for me.
One of the things that has been hard to accept after I became a mother was being constantly needed and never alone. The first time I could have a bit of time on my own was strange, I felt weightless. I’ve also noticed that kids don’t see us as independent beings, they often don’t realize that we would like to do something on our own. And there is nothing wrong with being needed. Living with a family has more good moments than bad. Not living alone makes sense in many ways.
But I crave solitude. I am one of the women who wake up early so that I can carve some time that is mine. And when I realized that it would be cheaper and easier if my husband went to take care of family issues and life admin in his country of origin and have a holiday at the same time just with our child (that, at the age of almost eleven, should be able to survive his care), I was more excited than if I were to plan the journey for the whole family. I used to travel a lot. I don’t mind missing a repeat trip, especially when it involves a lot of dealing with not my favourite relatives. The funny thing is how many people were surprised about it as if it was strange. I used to do things on my own and I don’t find it strange to not do everything as a family. I sometimes think that as mothers and wives we are meant to melt into the background, be there for everybody else, but god forbid we were to breathe too loudly….
My time of solitude was good. I was still working and sorting things around the house, I didn’t have a complete shut-off, but it was still my retreat. Just the fact that I didn’t have to worry about anybody else, as long as the animals were fed, was liberating. Then I realized how much lighter was the housework, how little laundry was needed, how much less cooking (and all to my taste and no negotiating around vegetables) there was and after a good clean – the house was fine, I just needed to sweep around the entrances and by the bird cage. Liberating.
Writing, reading, watching what I wanted. Sleeping on my own. Stretching in my bed. Silence. Yoga Nidra played every evening before sleep, with no headphones necessary. The yoga course I had singed up for could have been done as I wanted, not when I could fit it in.
What had been most revealing was the fact that I didn’t need to change anything to be happy. I was doing what I would have done anyway, I didn’t want to be anywhere else or with other people. I had been where I was meant to be. Time to focus on me was the only thing that was different and special. Which, I guess, is a good sign. Being happy as I am is a good way to live.
