It’s not that I find relationships difficult—but on days when I don’t see or speak to anyone, I can breathe more deeply.
This is a quiet realization of how creativity and clarity returned to me when I took some distance from others.
Noticing the exhaustion after social interaction
There are moments when I feel quietly drained. Nothing major has happened, yet after meeting or messaging someone, a weight seems to settle in my chest.
I used to believe that “being social is important” and that “being alone is sad.”
For years, I pushed myself to smile, to connect, to be who I thought I should be.
But one day I suddenly realized— “Maybe I feel most at ease on days when I don’t have to meet or talk to anyone.”
Breathing more freely when I’m alone
When I’m alone, words come more easily. Ideas flow, not because I try to force them—but because I’m not trying to match someone else’s rhythm.
Even as a child, I loved watching the sky.
Crowds tired me, and I would curl up in bed the moment I got home.
I wasn’t comfortable with noisy gatherings, but I never thought of that as my “nature.”
Instead of adapting to the world, I returned to myself
I thought I had to be cheerful, sociable, bright—because that’s what others liked. But in truth, I felt most alive when I was in quiet spaces, alone with my thoughts.
Taking distance wasn’t about pushing people away.
It was about getting closer to myself.
Creativity born in silence
In that space of stillness, I found myself writing without effort.
Not for approval. Not for attention. Just because I wanted to.
My creativity returned like a clear reflection appearing when water becomes still.
No longer rippled by constant stimulation, I could finally see my inner self.
Alone, but not lonely—just returning
Without anyone else’s eyes on me, I began to truly “see” with my own.
Now, I occasionally put away my phone, ignore messages, and go for walks.
The wind, the trees, the birdsong, and the changing sky— All of these gently make space inside me. And in that space, words and images begin to arise again.
Taking space isn’t loneliness.
It’s the quiet act of returning to myself.
Listening to my voice—that was the beginning
If you’ve ever felt something similar— not that people are bad, but that too much interaction makes you feel… distant from yourself— then I want to tell you this: you’re not alone.
Try making time to be intentionally alone.
Even just ten minutes—no phone, no conversation, no input.
Just breathe. Ask yourself gently, “How am I feeling right now?” And listen.
The answer might surprise you with its clarity.
In that moment, you might rediscover a creative spark inside you— one that was always waiting.
Just like I did.
