What Living Alone in an Alien Place for 2 Years Taught Me About Life and This World

Freedom is not just being able to do whatever you want — it means more responsibility

“Sometimes, you find yourself in the middle of nowhere, and sometimes, in the middle of nowhere, you find yourself.”

Tears, laughter, heartbreaks, sweat, blood, failures, and successes — I have experienced much more in two years living alone in Montreal than I have in my entire life.

I’ve cried in a public toilet. I’ve talked with myself like a maniac. I’ve prayed like a priest. I’ve stayed awake for 54 hours. I’ve broken down in a supermarket.

I’ve watched my life roll like a movie.

From fear to love — I’ve learned to live life as it unfolds. I fell in love with the same place, people, and moments I once hated.

More importantly, I discovered my real self.

I’ve touched all of Montreal.

But it has touched me more.

Step by step, second by second, living alone has shaped me into the human being I am today.

I was wild. I became wise. I was tender. I became resilient. I was arrogant. I became empathetic.

I could never forget how this alien place, where everything — from language to people, culture to lifestyle — was a challenge, forged me. I’ve matured in many ways I never thought I ever could.

I am sure my experience and learnings will empower you to push your envelope and believe in yourself more.

When I moved to Montreal, I had nothing. No bed. No mattress. No kitchen utensils. No furniture.

All I had my suitcase loaded with were Indian spices, books, and basic amenities like clothes and toiletries.

And how I can forget my first winter. Minus thirty-five degrees Celsius, and I had no DOWN jacket. I would shiver every time I stepped outside. I would put on a thousand layers of clothes only to look like that Michelin man.

And, as if the weather wasn’t harsh enough, I had to deal with the 6-month-long darkness.

In India, we have 16-hour daylight all year long. It was the first time I had to experience complete darkness. It would get pitch black by 5 PM and wouldn’t lighten up until 8 AM the next day.

There were days I would sit in my room with the lights off and do absolutely nothing because I had no idea what to do.

In the beginning, all of this was overwhelming. Every day was a battle. All I wanted to do was go back home where things were familiar and comfortable.

But that’s the life I have chosen to live. I had to remind myself of my decision — every single day.

I slowly started to get adjusted to the darkness and cold weather. I began to enjoy my alone time. And eventually, I stopped longing for things back home.

I lost my passport on my first international travel…I lost a metro card and got myself arrested…I stayed awake for 54 hours studying for the University exam and still got a C…I misplaced my house keys only to spend a night outside in minus 30 degrees…I hopped onto the wrong metro and discovered it was the last one to run that night.

It’s easy for me to laugh at these life events, but they almost killed me mentally, emotionally, and psychologically.

Surprisingly, bad things happen to you only when you’re alone.

All these experiences taught me not to question the incidents. If you do one thing leads to another and sucks you more into the mental trauma. There are so many ways to waste energy and time, thinking — “had I done that thing differently, life would have been different.”

But you’ve lost your chance. Ruminating over it makes you weak. The only thing that empowers you is a FULL STOP.

The only way to put a full stop to the past is to stop putting a question mark on it.

Everything is meant for a purpose.

Everything is perfect if you look from a detached perspective.

What’s in your way is your way. Period.

In India, I was raised to believe that saying no is rude. I was taught to always agree with people, even if we don’t want to.

But, when I moved to Montreal, I quickly realized this was not the case. People were very direct, and they had no hesitation in saying no.

Unapologetically, I asked many people for favors when I arrived. I needed help with everything — finding an apartment, opening a bank account, getting a phone plan, and so on.

And, to my surprise, most people denied it. They were not interested in helping me or didn’t have the time.

I had to learn to fend for myself. I had to learn to do things on my own. And in the process, I became more independent and capable.

I also learned that when people say “no,” it’s not personal. It means they have their priorities, and that’s okay.

The city’s noise was so loud, according to my taste, that it drowned me in anxiety and fear. I froze in public places. My salvages were books, binge-watching, and my iPod.

I had an outlandish mix of contrasting emotions.

On the one hand, I felt everyone was affable with their perfectly planted smiles. On the complete opposite side, I felt like no one noticed me. I was unseen, unheard, and unknown — somewhere lost in the crowd.

Moving from “Indian family drama” to a “bachelor pad scene” was a jarring experience.

I didn’t realize at that time that everyone else felt the same.

But something began to brew within me. I decided to break the mold and take the initiative to say, “Bonjour!”

They say all great relationships start with “Hi.” I can vouch for this fact as I made some eternal connections that became my family.

I learned that if you don’t gather the courage to approach people, you might never know or connect with them.

Sometimes, we feel shy to say hello. Sometimes, we’re anxious. Sometimes, it feels invasive and intrusive. We keep wondering what the other person thinks about us. We worry.

However, it is really shameful to let overthinking and over-analytics obstruct the greeting method for establishing good human relationships.

I still wonder about my journey from being a stranger to owning this place.

What matters is not how you begin but how you end up. The feeling of happiness and contentment is worth all the struggles.

Change is in the DNA of the universe.

You never know when a friend will cancel plans. You never know when the metro will betray you. You never know when you’ll get a ticket for jaywalking (It’s a crime, don’t do it!). You never know when you’ll get fired from your job. You never know when your house heater will stop working. You never know when your landlord will kick you out without an eviction notice. You never know when a junkie will mob you. You never know when you’ll have a medical emergency. You never know when you’ll have a panic attack.

All the above situations hugged me when I least expected them. But isn’t that life!

These things can happen anytime, but when you live alone, their magnitude is too high to withstand. You don’t have anyone to share it with. You have no shoulders to cry on.

But time and experience taught me the agility with which I could embrace life plots. Living alone is like living off the edge. You’re always inclined towards the unknown.

Now that life has thrown so many lemons at me at unexpected times; I won’t wonder if the government falls overnight or if an apocalypse hits me.

One of the hardest things about living alone is loneliness.

Though I was introverted all my life, I was surrounded by family and friends in India. I always had someone to talk to.

And for the first time in my life, I had no one around on a Sunday. I had nothing to do either. Everyone I knew was busy with their plans, and I didn’t want to impose.

I would sit and gaze through my 10 feet glass window at the people down below and wonder what their lives were like. What were their stories? What did they do on a Sunday?

The pattern repeated each Sunday for almost three months. And then, one day, I decided to take myself on a date. I went to a movie, had dinner at a restaurant alone, and went for a walk in the park.

I cultivated many hobbies and interests. I started going out more often. I joined meetups and social groups.

It was one of the most liberating experiences of my life. I realized that being alone didn’t mean I was lonely. In fact, it was quite the opposite.

I was finally free to do what I wanted when I wanted and how I wanted. I didn’t have to answer anyone or explain myself. It was empowering and liberating.

Since then, I’ve made it a point to do things alone regularly. I still do. It has helped me become more independent and confident.

I no longer see being alone as a bad thing but as an opportunity to connect with myself and the world around me. It has become so addictive that now, people call me rude for not inviting them for Friday nights or get-togethers.

But enjoying being alone is truly a superpower that everyone should harness. It’s the best relationship in this world because you know you won’t betray yourself.

Living alone can challenge you mentally, physically, emotionally, psychologically, spiritually, and physiologically, only to make you a better version of yourself.

I still live independently but in a different city, in a different environment, in a different setup, and where my family lives nearby. But nothing’s comparable to the first time trying to be independent.

If you can live alone, you can live with/without anyone. You don’t need anyone to complete you as an individual.

You won’t be the same if you live alone for a week. I bet.

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