Ask Izzy: A Case for Being Your Own BFF
Inspired by my 5 days of retreating in the San Juan Islands
Hello friends!
It has been a while since my words graced your inbox and I do so apologize for that. I have been in a period of transition; my column Ask Izzy (this very one!) was cut from my beloved Seattle Gay News due to budget restraints so I have been trying to figure out how to continue this work meaningfully. I wrote one last column for the paper which you can read here.
I am sad that SGN will no longer be the home of this column but I am determined to make it work. If you would like to help me continue this dream, you can become a paid subscriber by clicking the button below. Your contribution helps greatly.
I recently returned from a 5-day Quarterlife retreat with author Satya Doyle Byock and 13 new friends on an incredible farm called Saturn’s Return. I started the retreat feeling anxious about the downtown and solitude; I was restless for activity while others seemed to easily lean into to the peace the property brought. While I am not sure this was actually the case, the ease to which others lounged around made me inspired. So, as the sun set on the first day, I made a promise to myself to try this new thing called relaxing. No phone, no husband to bother, no TV to scroll through. Just me, myself, and I.
For the first 25 years of my life, I was terrified of solitude. The quiet moments in the darkness left my mind to ruminate or find projects to work on. Being alone meant I was constantly lonely, aching for friends to distract the busyness of my mind. But it was on this retreat I realized just how important it is to be your *own* friend. As I wandered the farm, pondering all of life’s biggest questions, I caught myself regularly laughing and talking to myself. And for the first time in my life, I was having fun. Alone! There were a few instances where I would make a joke, laugh, and exclaim to no one in particular “damn, I am funny!”
In the moments before going to bed every night, as I wrapped myself up in my sleeping bag in the car (I was camping), I made jokes about cocooning and how in the morning I would emerge a butterfly. No one was around but me to hear them and the joy it brought me was surprising. It was hilarious! Even when no one was around.
It was in these moments that I began to see myself clearly without shame or judgment. There was no one to impress and in that realization, I felt the most authentic I had been in months.
There was one morning on the 3rd or 4th day when I felt the need to move my body. Gracie Abrams had just released a new album, The Secret of Us, and I knew that if I was home, I would dance around like no one was watching. Before I knew it, I was doing just that. While I was aware that people probably could see me, there was nothing I wanted more in that moment than to move my body unapologetically. So I did. I must have looked crazy! But I didn’t care. I closed my eyes and danced in a small patch of grass behind the main house.
I felt free. I felt joy. I felt at home in my own presence.
There is a lot that I took away from this retreat but the most important, I think, is that it is crucial to become your own friend and enjoy solitude every now and then. Regardless of how much I love and missed my husband and cats, which is SO FUCKING MUCH, I arrived home feeling filled up. The retreat showed me just how important it is to spend time alone and to truly enjoy it.
Now, a few days home, I am practicing this very thing by sitting with myself every morning before beginning work. I write in my journal, check in on my feelings, and set my intentions for the day. In doing this work, I am honoring myself in a way I have never done and I want to implore others to try the same.
It may be uncomfortable at first. You may try and reach for your phone, text a friend, even scroll TikTok looking for something to make you feel seen. But take it from me, those are all temporary fixes to the discomfort you face inside. Being able to take yourself out to eat with a journal and a good book is a skill and one that takes practice to do.
But trust me when I say, it will pay off. You can do it, I believe in you.