單獨與孤獨的不同 Alone Doesn’t Mean Lonely

我還在讀大學時，有一天我自己一人走在校園，偶遇班上一位同學，聊了幾句，他隨口對我說：「啊你怎麼一個人？都沒人陪你喔，好可憐。」

我心裡 os：「恩？？什麼？？ 我現在一個人很爽耶🤣」

這位同學人很好，所以知道他講那話不是挑釁，是關心，所以我並不覺得被冒犯啦。只是這次經驗讓我意識到，原來有人會把「 一個人 = 孤獨 」扣在一起。

一直以來在跟朋友分享伴侶關係中「單獨性」這概念時，時常碰到大家會把「單獨」跟「孤獨」搞混，覺得若要單獨，好像準備得孤獨一輩子似的，好可怕。

但我認為兩者是非常不同的東西。

▋「孤」，意味著被拋棄、失去。

⠀

你感覺孤單，是因為你想要有人陪，但卻沒人可陪，所以感到孤單。你很想跳雙人舞，但偏偏只能自己跳單人舞。甚至覺得跳單人舞的人是可憐的。內心偏向匱乏的狀態。

⠀

⠀

▋「單」，一個完整個體性。

自己一個人也可以活很好，若有伴侶/家人/朋友也很好，若沒有，也沒什麼大問題。無論跳單人舞還是雙人舞，內心都比較是喜悅豐盈。⠀

所以當我看見有人「獨自一人」的時後，不會立刻覺得他是孤單很可憐，或一個人自己笑瞇瞇就覺得他是在逞堅強，於是開始自顧地同情對方。

我會比較想進一步確認他是孤獨還是單獨後再說。

⠀

若是孤獨，在我能力範圍下，我可能會願意多陪他一點。但若是單獨，根本沒我的事啊 哈哈哈 人家自己爽的咧！

後來，也發現「單」這個字型，是不是很像一個人拉開蓬蓬裙在跳單人舞💃😍！！很有趣！

⠀

▋ 而我在伴侶關係課堂中，也曾分享這兩句話⠀

「我很愛你，但我不需要靠你來活。」

「愛情是錦上添花，而不是我的氧氣罩。」

這兩句其實就是在說伴侶關係中的單獨性，我很愛你，但我一人也可以活得很很好。

未來的某天，若你先離開了，可能是死亡，也可能是不愛了，我知道內心會有所震盪，但我知道震盪過後，我會繼續好好活下去。

錦上添花則是喜上加喜的意思，原本的生活就有喜悅，愛情是來更增添生命喜悅的，而不是氧氣面罩，非你不可。

有這樣底氣的伴侶關係，帶來的會是雙方生命的自由與滋養，而不是窒息。

When I was still in college, I remember one afternoon I was walking alone on campus and happened to run into a classmate. We chatted briefly, and he casually said,

“Oh, how come you're alone? No one’s with you? Poor thing.”

My internal reaction?

“Um… what?? I’m actually really enjoying being by myself right now 🤣”

This classmate was a kind person, so I knew he wasn’t trying to be rude—he probably meant it as a form of concern. I wasn’t offended. But that moment made me realize something: some people automatically equate being alone with being lonely.

Over the years, I’ve noticed this confusion pop up often when I talk with friends about solitude in romantic relationships.
Many people still see “being on your own” as a scary thing—as if being okay alone means you’ve signed up for a lifetime of isolation.

But to me, being alone and feeling lonely are two very different experiences.

▍Loneliness is about loss and lack.

You feel lonely because you want company—but don’t have it.
It’s like craving a dance partner but finding yourself dancing solo.
And sometimes, people even view solo dancers as pitiful.
There’s a sense of emptiness at the core.

▍Solitude is about being whole.

You know how to live well on your own.
Having a partner, family, or friends is wonderful—but if they’re not there, you’re still okay.
Whether you’re dancing alone or with someone else, your heart is steady and full.

So when I see someone alone, I don’t automatically assume they’re lonely or in need of saving.
I don’t project sympathy on someone just because they’re smiling alone.

Instead, I ask myself:
Are they in loneliness—or in solitude?

If they’re lonely, and I have the capacity, I might stay and keep them company.
But if they’re simply enjoying their solitude? That’s none of my business, haha—they’re clearly having a great time!

(By the way—have you noticed that the Chinese character for “單” (solitude) kind of looks like a person twirling in a flowing dress doing a solo dance? 💃😍 I love that image.)

▍In my relationship course, I often share these two lines:

“I love you deeply—but I don’t need you to survive.”
“Love is the cherry on top, not my oxygen mask.”

These are about wholeness in love—I love you, but I also live well on my own.

If one day you leave—whether through death, or the end of love—I’ll grieve, I’ll shake.
But after the waves settle, I know I’ll go on living fully.

Love as a cherry on top means life is already full of joy, and love adds even more sweetness.
It’s not something I depend on to breathe.

This kind of foundation in a partnership brings freedom and nourishment, not suffocation.