Alone for the holidays

When I was 22 years old, I was a broke college sophomore at Brigham Young University in Provo, Utah. It was Fall semester 1990. My parents were living in Ohio at that time, and I had no other family living in Utah. As the holiday season approached, many students began making plans to return home for the long Thanksgiving Day weekend in late November. I called my folks to inquire about the possibility of coming home. They informed me that finances were tight, and could only afford to fly me home for Christmas and the two-week break between semesters.

“Besides,” they said, hoping to console me, “Thanksgiving is just a fancy dinner…and it’s only four days.” In my parent’s defense, they were also spending the holiday without extended family.

So there I was, on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving Day, sitting in my apartment watching my roommates leave for home, one by one. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I was feeling a little sorry for myself. But, it was what is was. Besides, by Sunday afternoon everyone would be rolling back into town to be ready for classes on Monday and the last three-week push towards final exams. So, technically, I would only be alone for three full days.

(In retrospect, I’m not sure why none of my local roommates even thought to have me tag along. College boys, am I right?)

As an adult, I absolutely relish opportunities for days or weeks alone to myself. But as 22-year-old kid 1,700 miles from home, those three days felt daunting.

BYU hosts a fair number of international students from all around the globe. Needless to say, almost none of them were flying home to Japan or France or Argentina for the Thanksgiving break. Fortunately for me, the university cafeteria prepared a lovely American-style Thanksgiving Day dinner for all of us holiday orphans, and all for the low price of just $3.00 US dollars—less than eight bucks in today’s money.

In 1990, the main cafeteria on BYU campus was located in the Ernest L. Wilkinson Student Center, more commonly known as “The Wilk.” The cafeteria, named the Cougareat after the school mascot, was divided into two sections. The front portion served burgers, sandwiches, pizza, etc. The back portion served more traditional “blue plate special” type meals like meatloaf and lasagne. I should also note that the front section of the Cougareat had a number of coveted dining booths next to a heavily-trafficked hallway, perfect for hanging out and people watching.

On Thanksgiving Day, I slept in late and then rode the city bus from my apartment up to BYU campus. The bus stop was located conveniently at the Wilkinson Center. A short two-minute walk later, I was standing in line for turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, and pie. Four minutes later, I was sitting alone in a sea of empty tables dotted with international students and assorted holiday holdovers.

I have always been an introvert, and I tend to be shy around strangers. Those who know me might find this surprising because I am quite social and lively among my family and peers. It just takes me a while to warm up to people. But once we’re friends, we’re buddies for life.

Normally, I don’t mind eating in solitude. But on this Thanksgiving, for some reason I felt extra alone. I finished my meal and decided to walk home, because, well, what else was there to fill the time? Sitting alone in my apartment that night and feeling a bit deflated, I thought of a way to cheer myself up and to pass the remaining two days: I would ride my skateboard all around campus.

In those days, I could skate for hours.

Like many universities, BYU’s campus had miles of wide, smooth sidewalks, perfect for skating. But also like many universities, BYU had a campus police department that seemed singularly dedicated to stopping skateboarding at all costs. Yes, technically skateboarding was forbidden on campus. But for any true skater, that just makes the challenge more compelling.

Turns out my fears of potentially getting caught were unwarranted. With no classes and 99% of the students and staff gone for the holiday weekend, campus was a ghost town.

I distinctly remember that Friday afternoon. Evening was approaching. The sun was beginning to set, painting the snow-covered mountains just east of campus in a pink and orange sherbet hue. And there I was, all alone, gliding along on my Vision Mark Gonzales skate deck without a cop in sight, without a care in the world, feeling the crisp autumn air on my face and listening to the repetitive click-click sound of my wheels as they passed over the sidewalk seams.

It was glorious and surreal. I felt as free as I ever have.

That brief snapshot in time is permanently etched on my mind. What I had initially perceived as a poor-me moment, that weekend by myself has become one of my fondest memories.

Curious, have you ever been alone for the holidays? Did it impact your life in a meaningful way?

Side note: If you could use some help navigating your hero’s journey, visit my About page to learn how to work with me 1:1 as your guide and life coach.