I walked into the restaurant, arms aching from the weight of shopping bags. The hostess smiled at me as I approached, the bags knocking into my knees and hitting the sides of the narrow entryway.
“Just one today?” she asked me as she looked me over.
“Yeah, just me,” I told her. Her smile dissolved for a moment, then reappeared. I’m sure she thought I was odd. I don’t imagine many people come to a dine-in restaurant in a busy mall on a Saturday afternoon alone unless they’re at least sixty-five years old. Normally, this fear of people thinking I was strange for being alone and of having no one to lean on for support would have kept me from eating out, or even from leaving the house at all. I was feeling especially bold today. Whether is was the hunger that drove me, or just some strength I didn’t know I had, I found myself in a situation I never thought I’d be in: dining in a busy, mid-grade pizza restaurant alone.
“Okay, it’ll just be a few minutes,” the hostess said. I took a seat next to the massive shopping bags I dragged in with me and waited. It wasn’t long before a man strolled up behind the hostess and told her he had a table ready.
“It’s just her,” the hostess told him. He turned to me with perhaps the most fake smile I’d ever seen. He motioned for me to follow him, menu in hand. I struggled to my feet, walking carefully so as not to bump into any tables with my bags.
“So, will anyone be joining you later?” he asked me over his shoulder.
“Nope,” I told him after a forced giggle. I wanted to explain to him that I did in fact have friends, and, no, I’m not as lonely as I seem, but I wasn’t sure this was necessary. He probably doesn’t give a shit about me, and for all I know, people dine alone more often than I realize.
It was uncomfortable for me, of course, but I can’t say it was as uncomfortable as I imagined it. I felt vulnerable, like everyone in the vicinity was looking into my soul directly. Instead of filling me with fear as would usually happen, I felt more confident. For once, my anxiety and shyness were not in control. I was doing what I wanted to do without depending on the company of someone else to make me feel at ease. I was facing my fears and not withdrawing.
Five years ago, I would have never pictured myself telling this story. I was afraid to drive on the highway alone, to go shopping alone, and I couldn’t even order food from McDonald’s alone. I would stay in my bedroom unless a friend or family member accompanied me somewhere. While I was always as introverted as I am today, I needed others around in social situations with whom I was comfortable. I found that being with a friend who could socialize for me allowed me to remain withdrawn while still going out and appearing to interact with the world.
In that restaurant, as I picked through my salad and sipped on my tea, I watched all of the groups of friends around me enjoying their time together. I imagined myself sitting with them. They would keep talking and laughing, and I would just remain silent. How often had I been the one in a group of people who faded into the background? Perhaps too often. It’s so easy and comfortable for me to slip under anyone’s radar when I’m with others.
A toddler’s endearingly squeaky voice brought my attention away from my ponderings. He was at the table next to mine with his father and older brother.
“Dad,” he whispered too loudly, “is that girl alone?”
“Yes, I think so,” the father answered.
“Isn’t that kinda sad?” the boy said. I could see the father tense up in my peripheral vision. When I laughed, he relaxed.
“No, not really, I guess,” he told his son finally. He was right. Me being there alone and having an overpriced meal with myself was perhaps the least sad thing I’d done in a while. Was it less sad if I’d been sitting with a group of people who kept talking over me, who unintentionally left me out of their conversations? Would I be happier if I let others overpower me so I could go unnoticed? Perhaps to those around me, I looked like I felt lonely and forgotten, but instead I felt more present and active than I have before.
Feigning Confidence 
Very well written Megan
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Thanks dude!
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