My mom took me shopping and I ended up with a moss colored crushed green knee-length skirt and a cream colored top. It was 1993 and it was my first high school homecoming dance. I don't remember anything about whether I decided to meet up with friends or if I figured I'd just find friends there, but I walked into the dance alone after being dropped off in front of the high school. She didn't make a big deal of it at the time later told me how proud she was of me, how bravely I marched in there all alone. But it didn't feel brave at the time--it didn't feel like anything.
I went to another party by myself last night--one of those "event space" parties--and I was excited about the prospect of rolling solo. Two things objectively helped: the party started at 6, so not did I hire a babysitter to do my kids' dinner and bedtime, that meant I could leave early as well. I don't like going to things that start at 8 PM or later. Also I reserved parking through Spothero (one of my favorite apps of all time) so I knew I won't be driving downtown getting progressively madder as I searched for parking or feeling like a sucker for ponying up $20 for valet.
But here is what I most love about going to a party by myself. When I go to a party with somebody else, I feel often feel an obligation to make sure that my companion is on the exact same wavelength as I am. Do you know the person I'm talking to? Do you have something to talk about? Are you thirsty? Do you want to sit down? Are you happy with what you're eating? Do you want something else? Do you want to stand over there? Will you be okay if I use the bathroom? Is it too loud? Are you too cold? Are you mad at me for making you come to this? When do you want to leave? This comes up a lot as I am married to an introvert but even since high school I felt a weird type of agony if I sensed that my companion at any event was in any way displeased with the situation that I was responsible for bringing him or her to. I couldn't enjoy myself unless and until that person was completely happy.
Here was my worst case scenario for last night's party: I walk into the party and know nobody. I eat all the appetizers I want, have one or two drinks as I do a lap or two, and then leave. The best case scenario was exactly the same as the previous scenario, only I run into a few people I know. In both scenarios I left before 9 PM.
That was pretty much exactly what happened and it was awesome. I felt liberated in a way I usually didn't, to pick and choose exactly what I wanted to do--maybe without social cues I felt free to put down a margarita and a plate of ramen I didn't enjoy that much, unashamed to pick up a slice of cake right after finishing some ice cream (the cake and the ice cream were from Dos and Jeni's, respectively, and I would eat them both again, publicly in quick succession, in a second.) I did see some people I know, which was great, but then felt fine about splitting off from them and just taking in the crowd. There is greater freedom in eyeballing a crowd when you're by yourself than when you're with other people, maybe because it looks like you're saying mean things about people if you're looking at them and talking at the same time? I don't know. Plus it's always fun to see how people dress at these types of things. I saw a woman in a tee shirt and jeans and I saw other women who kind of looked like hookers. Most importantly, I got home by 9:30.
I know the only thing possibly better than going to a party like that by myself would be not going anywhere at all, but I liked the combination of antisocial and social, to be out and have it be completely on my terms. Maybe going to a party by yourself when you're shy is considered brave, but to roll solo when you are often thinking about other people's needs and comfort is just a luxury.