Learning to Stand Alone

There was a time in my life when I never lived alone.

Photo By With Elli

I went from my family home to relationships, friendships, and love stories — always trying to belong somewhere. I thought that being part of something meant I was safe, that I had meaning. But the truth is… I was scared of being by myself.

I depended on people to define me — family, friends, partners — and I was constantly trying to hold things together, terrified that if something ended, I would disappear too. And yet, in the middle of all that effort to not be alone, I had never felt lonelier.
Because I wasn’t with me.
I didn’t even know who “me” really was.
And honestly, I didn’t even like myself that much.

Therapy changed that.
It wasn’t easy — it still isn’t. But therapy gave me a mirror. It helped me see myself, slowly, without judgment. To sit with my own company, to hang out with myself, and to start — little by little — to like me. Sometimes, even to love me.

I realized that for most of my life, I had never truly been independent. I was always depending on someone’s presence, approval, or direction. I never really stood on my own feet.
That realization hurt — but it was also the beginning of healing.

The journey of learning to stand alone is not about isolation. It’s about becoming whole.
Psychologists like Carl Jung called this individuation — the process of becoming your own person, separate from the voices and expectations around you.
Erik Erikson wrote that before we can build healthy intimacy, we first need a strong sense of identity. Otherwise, we merge too easily, lose ourselves, and mistake closeness for love.
And Donald Winnicott said something I now understand deeply: “The capacity to be alone is a sign of emotional maturity.” It means being alone, but not feeling abandoned — feeling safe within yourself.

Today, I’m learning that self-trust is something you build, not something you’re born with. I’m learning that I can do things on my own. I can take small steps toward my dreams. I don’t need a magic force, or someone to save me. I just need to show up for me.

Of course, I didn’t do this all by myself.
I was lucky to have a few wonderful people who stood by me — people who accepted me as I am, who didn’t ask me to fix myself, but gave me space to grow. Their presence helped me realize that healing doesn’t mean changing who you are. It means becoming who you’ve always been, underneath fear and dependency.

Now, I work on myself every day — through therapy, through studying, through coaching, and by practicing small daily habits that remind me I can.
If you ever have the chance to try coaching in a trusted, regulated company — not from random individuals but with real professional guidance — do it.
It can be a beautiful complement to therapy.
It teaches you structure, self-compassion, and new tools to build the life you want.

For the first time, I’m starting to feel like myself.
Not who others need me to be.
Just me — slowly, softly, becoming real.

And that’s more than enough. 🌷