The Independence of Emptiness
An independent kind of loneliness is liberating. I faintly remember brief phases of my life where I experienced such liberation. I think that’s called being alone without being empty. Growing up, I mostly felt sufficient and happy just by myself. I may have had an unidentified need for validation and appreciation when I was young. But my self-worth was what I thought of myself and not what others thought of me. The attention I received for doing well in school or for being friendly and fun, felt nice but was never required. Or maybe I did require it to be happy; I just didn’t realize that I needed it because I was surrounded by it, surrounded by friends, surrounded by admirers, surrounded by the noise of life and its wonders at the time. Until I faced my first big emotional storm that taught me what destruction felt like, I didn’t experience emptiness and its deafening silence amidst the noisy chaos. I used to find tragic sadness beautiful and inspirational and although I was attract