Reflections on London and being alone, as first term lies behind me

There’s something I wrote, on September 24th, 2018, as I was, for the first time, completely alone in my new city.

Today as I rode the Piccadilly line from South Kensington to Kings Cross, away from my parents and my last connection to my old home, I sat in a kind of terrified, numb stupor. Looking around the train car at the girl with houndstooth gray jeans and green hair (even on her eyebrows), the businessman in the neat black coat with hands folded politely in his lap, the young man not much older than myself standing by the door and nervously biting his nails, I came to realize something – not the universality of human beings, or the common ground of these everyday occurrences, or anything significantly positive or inspirational. Instead, I felt palpably in every bone, that this was not my city (at least yet). I felt like a stranger implanted into a new world, not so different on the surface but dizzyingly alien to me. The city hadn’t let me into its arms yet (but then again, how could it?). It was keeping me at an arms length, testing me and trying to discern whether I should be embraced or swallowed whole.

I knew it was only a year that I would be here, yet I felt like I was starting a new life. This terrified me. So, how does one transition from apprehensive, uncertain newcomer to self-assured, rooted local? How does one finally feel a sense of belonging?

For me, it came in various streams, not one by one, but intermingling with each other. When I felt that I could get from school to home without my Google Maps, I felt a glow in my chest the rest of the day. When I began to understand what in the world British folks were saying when they said “chockablock”, “cheesed off”, or “quid”, I felt like less of an outsider. When I found my favorite pasta place in London…well, that speaks for itself. But apart from small innocuous victories, what finally made me feel like I belonged was the communities I built and became a part of during my time here. People need people, and being alone was something I was scared of and completely unfamiliar with before September. Yet, in living alone in London and spending time with myself, I began to realize the value of time that you choose to spend with others. I have made friends that are Greek, British, Indian, Chinese, Sri Lankan, Welsh (and American) who think about the world in such a different way than I do. I have become part of communities of people that I really love, so much that I choose to spend time with them when convenience speaks to me being alone. Being surrounded by people all the time in college, at home and outside, did not provide me the time to reflect on how much I value those around me and how my time was deliberately spent. Paradoxically, the discomfort of being alone has given way to the appreciation of self-reflection and the heightened gratitude and appreciation for the people I choose to surround myself with.

I’ve learned so much about myself here, and not in a cheesy, “I’ve completely changed who I am and become a 100% awesome person” way. I’m much of the same worrywart meticulous overthinker that I have always been. However, there are indelible understandings about the world and myself that this experience has facilitated and I am forever indebted to those who made this possible. I am quite certain that it has changed the trajectory of my life, for the better. I hope my next post to be about some of these learnings, but for now, I leave you here.

Thanks for reading!

– Sonia

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