Today, I went to The Devil Wears Prada...by myself. This is not the first time I have written about my going to movies by myself, but I am compelled to comment further as I became annoyed at the pity that was shown to me when I shared this with a friend. When asked how I spent my afternoon, I shared my entertainment choice and this friend responded with an "ohhhh" so deep with lament that I couldn't tell if she felt sorry for me that I went to the movie alone or in my choice of movie.
I couldn't help myself. I replied with a quick, "Oh, no. You know I enjoy movies by myself." This is no lie to cover a lack of friends. Midweek matinees are my favorite kind of movie to see. Alone.
Enjoying this kind of isolation confuses people. Not all people. I know plenty of isolationists like myself. Just as I seek out detachment from others, there are people that must be with companions at every turn. There is no right or wrong way.
On the outside, I appear to be the type of person that would want to be with people all of the time. In my life, I have rarely been in a situation where I haven't been "with" someone. I grew up with a brother. I lived in the dorms in college. I lived in a sorority house. I married young so I have always had Tim. I have had friends to call up for a partner. My parents were always willing to hang out too. No matter the context, I have always sought being alone.
I remember seeking the privacy of my bedroom when I was younger. I was lucky enough not to share a bedroom. I had all of my favorite things in my room where I could just be. I was able to listen to the music that I wanted, read what I wanted, and be whatever I wanted in my room. As an adult, I realized that I could have this sort of anonymity and isolation in my everyday, mundane activities.