This year, I set a challenge for myself: 100 days of solitude. Yesterday, I reached the halfway mark—50 days. I’m behind schedule. I won’t complete it by the end of the year, but that’s okay. Perhaps I’ll write a blog post about the experience so far (adding it to the ever-growing list of unfinished posts and unkept promises—oh, what an awful person I am!)
The truth is, I love being alone. There’s a sense of authenticity in solitude that I struggle to find elsewhere. As a Saudi woman, I'm always expected to embody a certain ideal. Growing up, there was hardly any room to develop a sense of self; we were too busy playing roles assigned to us. This constant conformity is exhausting, leaving little space for genuine self-discovery. That’s why I crave solitude—it’s the only place where I can truly explore who I am, free from the weight of expectations.
Even now, living in the US, I still don’t feel entirely free or authentic. No environment has ever felt like my natural habitat. Every place is foreign, requiring a version of myself that blends in, adapts, and doesn’t draw attention. But I’m 34 years old now, and I’ve realized I no longer need to care about fitting in. I’m okay with standing out, even sticking out like a sore thumb. The challenge lies in figuring out exactly what that “sore thumb” is. I don’t think I fully know myself yet, which is why I need this time alone. I need to strip away the expectations, the performances, and the adaptations to discover who I truly am.
I’m no physicist, so don’t judge me for the analogy—it just fits, okay? But I feel like Schrödinger’s cat. When I’m alone, I am both everything and nothing—unobserved, unmeasured, and fully myself. The moment I step into the company of others, it’s as if the box is opened, and I collapse into a role, shaped by their expectations and judgments. My true self, even though still somewhat blurry, thrives only in solitude, where I’m free from the pressures to conform. That’s why these days of solitude matter—they’re my way of uncovering the self that has long been buried beneath layers of adaptation and performance. I’m really enjoying this time alone, and once I’ve fully given birth to that true self, then—and only then—I’ll emerge and socialize with you all, 24/7.