As I said in a previous post, I grew up in a huge family. There was no such thing as an empty house or quietness, and I remember craving it. In my room at one of our houses, I had access to the attic's eves. I cleared one out and turned it into my hideaway. Some of my favorite time living there was hiding out and reading in there.
Then I headed to boarding school, followed by college and grad school, and a marriage. I lived alone for a while in grad school, but that was it. I either had roommates or lived with a boyfriend/partner for the next 15+ years.
It wasn't until moving to Belgium that I rediscover my love of solo time. The adjustment was painful and lonely as I learned to spend time with just me. But once I was over that hurdle, it felt like a warm, comforting bath. During crazy parts of the season or when I'm traveling with the team, it's hard to find solo time. Every meal is eaten as a group, and you work from basically sun up to sun down. When I'm home in Belgium, it's super easy to find me time; that's just called my normal.
But when I'm on the road, it isn't nearly as simple, but this week while in Atlanta, I've focused on finding quiet, me time. It's still been full work but finding micro me moments has allowed me to appreciate the shift between the extreme solo times (Belgium) and intense group living weeks (work) with ease.