Written by Sarah Macken
Post-Covid, we’re enjoying alone time more than we used to. As reclusiveness becomes a trending lifestyle choice, Sarah Macken asks if we’re all hermits in the making.
Gloria Steinem once said of Niki de Saint Phalle, the reclusive French American sculptor who abandoned her domestic life to live alone for a year and make art in the 1960s: “That is the first free woman I have ever seen in real life. I want to be just like her.”
Decades later, we’re finally getting the message: solitary time is rather cool. So cool, it’s imprinting on the zeitgeist. In fact, when a recent article spotlighting the Hermettes – a group of women in New York who’ve adopted a reclusive lifestyle – went viral it struck a chord.
These women use the term ‘hermit’ loosely. They don’t live in a cave. Nor are they agoraphobic. They, quite simply, like to be left alone. Indeed, it would be remiss to say they’re entirely antisocial. Many of them live by themselves, enjoying a small circle of friends who enrich their lives. They contribute to society, hold down high-powered jobs and often undertake quite extroverted work. Better yet, they challenge the trope that a mammoth group of friends, coupled with an overspilling social calendar, are somehow tantamount to our self-worth.
I read the story and – dare I say it – I was jealous. In 2022, amid a lingering pandemic, a war and a toppling environmental crisis, at times I feel an all-consuming desire to opt out of society – and, it turns out, I’m not alone.
It’s something my husband frequently teases me about if I begin talking in broad strokes about widening my social circle. “But you hate other people,” he reminds me.
He’s right, I do. Unconsciously, since lockdown I’ve all but purged my life of flimsy acquaintances, shit parties, uncomfortable social situations and the long-obeyed diktats that we couldn’t possibly get out of so-and-so’s baby-naming ceremony or yet another family gathering. Why can’t you? A social invitation isn’t obligatory; an RSVP isn’t a blood oath. Better yet: why don’t you politely decline in the first place? As Kim Cattrall recently taught us, ‘no, thank you’ is a worthy full sentence.
My friend, who is an emphatically charming gay man, says the problem with socialising in 2022 is that it’s loaded with a kind of pre-emptive regret. “I’ve noticed that I make plans with the best of intentions but pretty soon after saying yes, the excitement dissolves into ’Oh, god, what did I do that for?’” he says.
He’s not alone. For many of us, lockdown highlighted just how content we are to spend time by ourselves. I think of the texts pinging into my WhatsApp group. In my circle of friends we normalise talk of social anxiety, delight in cancelled plans and exchange comedic memes about never leaving the house: are we all hermits in the making?
We enjoy alone time more than we used to
It’s not so much that Covid has normalised being antisocial – rather, Covid has normalised checking out of social obligations sans guilt. Nowadays, my free time operates on a quid pro quo basis. For every social event I attend, I require at least a day or two of me-time as balance. Time for my introvert self to rest and, optimally, to do a facemask and watch reruns of Sex And The City on my phone as I scrub the bathroom tiles (my idea of bliss).
“Living alone in lockdown, I really enjoyed trying new things like learning how to garden, cooking a new recipe or listening to a podcast about a topic I wasn’t familiar with: something I wouldn’t have done if I hadn’t been forced to spend time by myself,” Laura, a 40-year-old stylist and ambivert, says. “After a while, I realised that putting time into myself was broadening my intellect and making me feel more grounded.”
Before, female hermits were seen as social pariahs or – whisper it – spinsters; people to be pitied by society. That’s flipped, according to Laura, who, even though the world has reopened, clings to solitary time as it makes her feel empowered to be so self-sufficient. “Investing in myself has benefited me in social settings, too. I feel more secure and I don’t have FOMO if I don’t go to something either,” she says.
When it comes to friends, it’s quality and not quantity that matters
We may not assume a full hermit lifestyle anytime soon, but we can appreciate the joy of a reduced inner circle of friendships. It’s a positive thing, experts say, because, while Facebook would have us believe that the number of friends we amass – be it online or IRL – equates to how popular, likeable and fun we are, the ideal of a huge network of friends is largely unattainable.
“Friendships are important, but if you put your energy into this area of your life above all else, other areas of growth – like romantic relationships, career, finding a home and family connections – will inevitably become neglected,” says Anna Nauka, a psychologist at Silver Lining Therapy.
For some, the idea of narrowing your circle to just a few good friends can be triggering. What if those friendships end too? What if I’m left alone? Is it wise to put your eggs in the basket of just a few close friendships? Our reaction to having fewer people to surround ourselves with is often fear-based.
In fact, the healthy thing is to have fewer friends but to pay attention to the quality of those friendships, according to a recent study by the American Psychological Association (APA) that examines the changing parameters of friendships as we age.
The study finds that while your 20s are about surrounding yourself with a wide group of people who enrich your world view and influence your personality, when you get to your 30s, good quality friendships, rather than a large number of friends, are essential for wellbeing.
The pandemic has changed our friendships and how we socialise
Lockdown provided a natural pause in some friendships and the opportunity to consider which were worthy of resuming. The consensus is that we learned quite quickly who our real friends are and, as a result, are now quicker to ditch toxic situations – and the people who incite them. This was the case for Katherine, a 36-year-old PR executive, who felt her relationship with one friend was leaning towards dysfunction.
“After months of chasing a friend and getting nothing back, I called her out for not communicating or being available. She completely shut down and lashed out at me,” Katherine says. “I’m not proud to say it, but after that I made a resolution that the friendship was over; if she couldn’t meet me halfway, I was no longer going to pursue her.”
It’s only natural that our more tenuous friendships might dissolve; it’s something that happens with age, but according to experts, it’s something that has been accelerated by the pandemic. Is bidding farewell to a friend a loss? Absolutely, but it’s not a failure. “The dissolution of a friendship, for any reason, is completely normal as we progress through life. However, our perfectionist culture often edits out those realities,” Nauka says.
We’re sensitive to how social situations make us feel, too. “Among my friends, there is an awareness of how we react to certain people and places that wasn’t there before,” Laura says. She believes we’re more likely to check in with our base mood before we socialise – which definitely isn’t a bad thing. “I’ll get a text from a friend saying, ‘I’m tired, so maybe I shouldn’t be around people tonight.’ It feels healthier.”
Can spending too much time alone be bad for you even if you enjoy it?
Is there such a thing as too much solitary time? Actually, yes. “If you experience anxiety or discomfort when it comes to meeting people, to the point that you’d rather cancel plans, then that’s a red flag,” Nauka says.
Equally, replacing real life connection with being on your phone or binge-watching Netflix is where it gets unhealthy. “We leaned on technology a lot during the last few years. Don’t forget: nothing will ever replace meeting people face to face, hearing their voices and feeling their energy,” Nauka explains.
I’d argue that selected moments of antisocial activity are good for all of us. If a pinch of hermit living means that the next time we reply yes to that coffee invite it’s out of choice, not obligation – and the time we do spend with friends is of a higher calibre – then that can only be a positive. Think about it: any effort you put into getting to know yourself will have a ripple effect on everyone else in your life too.
Better relationships, self-sufficiency and more me-time: do the hermits have it sussed? Quite possibly.
Images: Getty
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