On the days I have off from work, I tend to spend most of my time in Costa Coffee with my laptop, either writing a blog post, drafting or reading a book. I’ve made it a regular habit to be prompt, as arriving a minute too late and the doors will be closed for me. Well not literally, but there will be no seats available.
Today, however, I’ve snagged myself a table. Got here as early as the doors were being unlocked. Not wanting to look too keen I walked around Westfield, passing by each store slowly, window shopping as leisurely as I could, before entering Costa and ordering myself a hot chocolate. With all the empty options readily available; I’ve chosen a table that’s close to a socket, has a window view and room for two people to sit, except my table for two is now a table for one. My laptop bag is occupying the seat opposite me.
As I sit here listening to nothing but peace and a little background noise; the churns and wooshes of the espresso machine. I remind myself of the times when I’d shy away from the thought of going out and sitting at coffee shops alone. Out of fear being judged. Of course, the scrutiny would’ve come from no one else but myself. However, whilst I was busy fearing what deemed impossible for me, I would see many brave solo souls enjoying a drink alone. Admiring their confidence, I too began to make the same bold moves. First, it was ordering a hot chocolate to go but staying in instead, in case I felt the need to rush out the door. Determined to step out of my comfort zone, the more I preserved and got a taste of my own company the more comfortable I got. My chaotic anxiety soon started backing off, whilst throwing a few hints of displeasure here and there. A dose of solitude wasn’t so bad.
With fortitude, I’d like to say I’ve come pretty far. Today, I enjoy my company the most. I find any excuse to take myself out. Why wait for somebody to take me to the new restaurant opening down the road, to go to a bakery where I’ve read good reviews about their brownies or even for a peaceful stroll in the park. I can’t remember the last time I looked at my calendar or had someone schedule me into theirs for a casual get together. Each slot in my planner is booked for me with good intention.
Blame It On Art 