My Experience Living Alone as a 20-Year-Old in College

By Caroline Stefanak
LinkedIn

​​I have always been one to take the “nontraditional” path when it comes to many things. This past summer, at 20 years old, I signed my very first lease to an apartment in the middle of the Bronx. Living alone in college was exciting and all until I realized I was an outsider to the large groups of friends and picture-perfect roommate situations around me. I am involved as far as living on campus, but I never entirely feel like I am a part of the environment.

In all honesty, I live in a somewhat eerie, blissful silence. I wake up by myself, cook and clean by myself, and end each night alone with popcorn and a good movie. Most of my time is spent in the presence of my thoughts and mind. I think I've gained enough experience, even at 21, to give my best advice to those who consider living alone. 

At the time I signed my lease, it felt like I was taking that first glamorous step into womanhood. I scoured Facebook Marketplace and every thrift store in a 50-mile radius to build my dream studio. I had my decor picked out to a T, and I spent months painting canvases to fill the big empty walls. I had dreamed of owning my own place one day, and I had these outrageous fantasies of the true realm of independence I was about to enter. It felt good to do something others my age weren't doing, especially knowing it was the best decision for me. Looking back on it now, I truly had no idea how difficult it would be.

I have struggled with my mental health over the past few years, but during my sophomore year, it began to affect more aspects of my life. I was attending therapy over Zoom once a week and spending a lot of time outside my dorm to distract myself from the negative thoughts that came from my environment. At the time I was living with two girls who I imagined to be my bridesmaids and had become attached at the hip to over the first two years of college. As it turned out, the friendship wasn’t meant to be, and that period of my life drove me deeper into my depression and anxiety. The day I decided I wanted to drop out of the lease we had signed, I felt like my life at school was over, and I had nobody left. I kept reminding myself that I deserved a college experience just as much as everyone else, and I wasn’t going to let a friendship breakup derail my life. 

Living alone in an urban city like the Bronx is a struggle in itself—no matter your gender. I am on constant alert whenever I walk alone, or get a random knock on my door. I carry pepper spray everywhere and keep my headphones ever so slightly off my ear in case someone starts to follow me. I have three locks on my door and just about every safety measure to ensure no one can come in through my fire escape. I’m comfortable in my apartment, but there is always that bit of fear that creeps in every time I hear a loud noise or someone bangs on my door.

The opportunity I have had to live alone is something I will forever be grateful for. There are honestly not enough words to describe how indebted I am to my mother for helping me set this up. But truly, there are so many things not even WikiHow can prepare you for when you spend your first night alone. 

The first thing they don't tell you is how deafening the silence can be. You don't have roommates to hear giggling when you come back from a long day. You don't have any background noise unless you make it yourself. There's cleaning to do every day, and don't even get me started on laundry. You are responsible for every single thing. I knew that going into this situation, but the smallest reminders bring you back to the reality that you are completely isolated at times. 

Most times, I like to play a lot of music to drown out the sound of the train or the laughing of my peers in the unit above me on a Friday night. In a way, it's kind of peaceful. You can do whatever you want, listen to whatever you want, and cook whatever meals you want. There's a real wow factor in this, especially if you are like me, and love to spend time alone. 

A year ago, most of my worries would have been consumed by a big test coming up, what outfit I was planning to wear to the themed party, or what my roommates and I would make for dinner. My worries now look much different. The other day, I couldn't figure out how to open a jar of pickles. Instead of yelling for a roommate, I went straight to Google. It didn’t cross my mind at that moment that I was left to solve this small issue alone. But when you look at the broad spectrum of things, you only have yourself for the day-to-day tasks. That didn't sink in for me at first.

The biggest struggle thus far for me has been dealing with a breakup by myself. This goes hand-in-hand with the idea that you don't exactly have the environment of “girlhood” you have when you have roommates. You don't have your best friend 50 feet away from you in the next room to cheer you up, or a shoulder to cry on at 3 a.m. when you just can't hold it in anymore. I never imagined that I would be tackling my first heartbreak alone—and in an oddly big studio apartment in the heart of one of the six boroughs. I've had to create a lot of my own distractions. Not to say that when you live alone a breakup is something to prepare yourself for, but it's more of the principle of it. This was, and still is, a major emotional hurdle for me. Living alone comes with priceless independence, but it also comes with a plethora of emotional hurdles that can set you back. I didn’t realize the extent to which I was isolated until those late nights, realizing I only had the comfort of myself.

When you live alone, you are responsible for the environment you create for yourself. You can go out and have all the fun you want, but at the end of the day, you return to yourself. I believe that's an understood concept, but you will never truly understand it until you live it. I've learned to always get ahead on my laundry, and plan out my meals for the week. I've started to take on new hobbies and push myself to be more social. One of the greatest lessons I've learned from this experience is to journal. Journal when you are sad, happy, overwhelmed, nervous—everything in between. Another one of the things I have done is create my own “me time.” In reality, every moment spent in this apartment is “me time.” I started to build a routine for myself that allows me to enjoy the simple things like watching my favorite show, or reading a book—but making that time “me time.” 

When I tell people that I live alone, I usually get compliments: "I could never do that! How do you manage?" or "Wow! That must be so fun—I could never because I talk so much, but good for you!" It's something most people won't understand unless they've done it, and I recognize that now. 

I like to say I have officially “grown up” in my little apartment in the Bronx. I learned how to take care of myself, all by myself. I grew in confidence and learned who I am as an adult. I fell in love for the first time in this studio, and I started my first blog within these four walls. If you find yourself in a situation where you are planning to live alone or get the opportunity to, just know it comes with its ups and downs. Living alone has been a blessing, as well as a struggle. But it is an experience, one I am so grateful to have.

Caroline Stefenak
LinkedIn