I did not think I'd have such a good time by myself. I thought I would be self-conscious the whole time. I anticipated feeling awkward, uncomfortable, and embarrassed to be alone. But I actually didn't feel any of those things. On a few occasions, when friends texted to ask where I was and who I was hanging out with, I felt a twinge of embarrassment to say: "concert! i'm going solo."Did people need to know that this is my favorite R&B group EVER and that I would go with or without a bunch of people? Did I need to explain that I kinda chose to go alone, and that it's not a reflection of me being loser-y?
I thought about these questions before answering, and each time, I felt stronger and stronger when I decided not to explain myself to anybody. I'm going to a concert, solo, people. It's not that big of a deal. I'm not going to blow it out of proportion to make it representative of anything else other than me going out for a good time with or without others.
In the end, I had an amazing time. I had a really great seat, I felt very comfortable singing, watching, crying (to the songs), and dancing to the music. I felt very connected to the power of the music. I knew all of the lyrics, and as I sang along, I re-played in my head, lots of dreams, hopes, and disappointments about my love life.
Ironically, this band is the one that I have listened to throughout my life. Their music set-the-stage for my expectations about love. Their music validated my pain when people fell out of love with me. Their music captures so much of my childhood, adolescent years, and even now, in my adulthood.
In the midst of the concert, I realized that for my birthday one year, perhaps when I turned, I had asked Robert for one of their CDs. He had haphazardly tossed that CD to me on the night of my birthday, outside of my house, unwrapped and with the "Best Buy" price tag still on it. He refused to come in for birthday cake that night, saying that he had too much homework to do and needed to get home. It was humiliating, and insulting, and I was so disappointed. My family was waiting for him inside so we could all cut the cake together. He didn't care. He left.
Another time, about 3 years ago, I dated an asshole guy, Frank, who was not only emotionally unstable, but also verbally abusive. It was a terrible relationship, and I always had to drive one hour out of my way to see him. In the end, I broke up with him because I simply could not tolerate him anymore. That didn't make the break up easier, though. What helped was listening to the music of this boy band and crying-- very hard-- in those 60 minute drives until all the pain, heartache, and anger flowed out of my system.
Music has healed my soul for so long, and I feel that much more empowered from the concert last night. I re-lived memories of previous relationships. I realized how much my expectations have been shaped by musical lyrics, which sometimes can be unrealistic. And I also became aware of how content I am these days, without a romantic partner to rely on, depend on, or impose those lyrics. Being alone in that huuuge auditorium with hundreds of people, made me realize that I am not alone, and that I am more connected to every thing and everyone when I am not in a relationship. At least for now, this is the best thing I can do for myself, and I want to continue to empower myself, learn more about myself, and get healthier before I jump into anything remotely romantic ever again.
I walked out of the auditorium last night, feeling so proud of myself. So proud of me. I did it. I attended a concert alone and I felt great. My friends, who happened to be downtown texted to ask if I wanted to stop by and get a drink with them. That made my night even better, knowing that I can do things alone by myself, and also have great friends who I can hang out with just a few blocks away whenever I want to (literally and figuratively).
These days, I have no regrets, whatsoever.
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