I need to preface this by saying I'm not looking for sympathy. I'm mostly typing this out because my therapist, Dr. Reeves, told me to 'externalize it' and I don't have a journal and this felt like the next best thing. So. Here we are.

Last Tuesday she asked me: 'When you're completely alone, with no one watching, what do you do for fun?'

I sat there for forty-five seconds. I counted. I was so aware of the silence that I started sweating. And then I said, 'I watch whatever my girlfriend likes.' And she said, 'That's not what I asked.' And I said, 'I know.'

That was the whole session basically. Forty-five minutes of me realizing I genuinely do not have an answer to that question.

Here's the background. I grew up with a mom who needed me to be the stable one. She wasn't abusive or anything, she was just anxious and unhappy, and somewhere around age nine I figured out that if I acted calm and easy and low-maintenance, the house felt better. So I became that. I became the kid who was 'no trouble at all.'

Then I went to high school and my friend group was into music so I was into music. Then college, different group, suddenly I was into hiking and craft beer and had opinions about fonts for some reason. I dated a woman named Priya for three years who was a hardcore introvert so I told everyone — told myself — that I was an introvert too. I skipped parties. I said things like 'I really just prefer a quiet night in.' I believed it while I was saying it.

We broke up, not because of this, just timing, and I started seeing someone else about a year later. Her name is Cassie and she is loud and social and loves having people over and going out. And within about two months I had completely reoriented. Suddenly I was telling people 'I used to think I was an introvert but I think I just hadn't found my people.' Which Cassie loved hearing. Which is exactly why I said it.

The thing is, I'm not even doing it manipulatively. I'm not trying to deceive anyone. It's more like... I have no default setting. I just scan the room, figure out what fits, and load that version. It's so automatic I don't even feel it happen.

My coworker James called me a chameleon once, as a compliment. He meant I was adaptable. I laughed and said thanks. I've thought about that word basically every day for two years.

The thing that actually broke me open — and this is the part I feel stupid about — was a dumb personality quiz. One of those 'what's your taste' ones that a friend sent around. Favorite movie genre. Ideal vacation. Dream job if money didn't matter. And I was filling it out and I kept thinking, well, what does Cassie usually say? What would my manager Marcus think was impressive? What would make me seem interesting but not weird?

I never submitted it. I closed the tab and sat there and thought, I am forty-one years old and I cannot fill out a novelty quiz about myself without an audience to perform for.

So that's what I brought to Dr. Reeves. And that's when she asked me the alone question. And that's when I sweated for forty-five seconds.

She said something that stuck. She said, 'The self doesn't disappear. It just gets really quiet when it's never been listened to.'

I don't know if I believe that yet. Honestly part of me is terrified that I'll do the work and dig down and there's just nothing there. Like I hollowed myself out so gradually that there's no original material left to find. That I am, at the core, just a collection of other people's preferences wearing a face.

But I'm trying. That's the part I wanted to put somewhere real.

Last Friday I watched a documentary about deep sea fish — alone, Cassie was out — and I didn't tell anyone about it and I didn't perform enthusiasm about it and I just... watched it. And I think I actually liked it? I'm genuinely not sure. But I watched the whole thing without checking how I was supposed to feel about it. That felt like something.

Dr. Reeves says that's where you start. One real thing. Then another.

I guess I'm starting.

If you got this far thanks for reading. If any of this sounds familiar I'd genuinely like to know I'm not the only one because right now it feels pretty lonely in here.