Summer’s over.
I love partying alone. With the right attitude and energy, I’m all that I need. Vibes and mindset are the only things that matter.
I used to be afraid of doing things alone. I worried about judgment. What would people think?
“Who’s this poor guy with no friends?”
“Is there something wrong with him?”
“Is he a creep?”
I cared so much about what others thought that I never tried to be myself. But now I’ve learned the truth — nobody cares.
Everyone’s too busy worrying about the same thing. Everyone’s too busy worrying about themselves.
I’ve got nothing to lose.
When I go somewhere alone, I am the master of my fate. I have no excuses. I decide where to go and I’m responsible for whether I have a good time. I am the captain of my soul.
There’s nobody to blame. I can’t blame the fact that the event or party sucks, because I’m the one who chose to go there. I can’t blame my friends, because I’m alone. I can’t blame anyone or anything.
I take responsibility.
I am free. Free to fly and free to fall.
I never know who I’ll meet when I adventure alone. I’ve met amazing people and peculiar characters. The world’s full of different types.
When I’m dancing alone at a party, I try my best not to think about anything or anyone. I’m there for the music. I’m there to shake my body and have a good time. Worst case scenario — it’s my cardio workout for the day, and I’ll reward myself with a Jamaican patty, Levantine shawarma, or some coconut water afterward.
Yet a funny thing happens when I’m having a good time dancing on my own. People start dancing towards me. The more positive energy I share, the more energy flows right back. It’s like gravity or magnetism. People like to be around people with good energy.
When I’m dancing alone and having fun, I’m suddenly the campfire in the middle of the dance floor — Come here! The vibes are great.
There’s no fooling anyone, either.
Sometimes I’ll dance, but my head isn’t screwed on right. My mind might be a on the other side of the planet. I might be self-conscious or I just can’t seem to find my groove.
Oops. No vibes.
I have good days and off days just like everyone else.
The best part of flying solo is opening my life to new, spontaneous experiences.
“Yes” is powerful.
Because I am willing to look silly and be socially vulnerable, I have been fortunate to be invited to new spaces, new friend groups and new conversations that might never have occurred in an alternate universe.
This summer, I’ve started going to parties and concerts in Toronto that showcase the musical richness of the African continent — Afrobeats from Nigeria and Ghana, Congolese Ndombolo, Angolan Afro House and Kuduro, South African Gqom, and so much more.
As a Hong Kong-born Canadian who grew up in Asia, I wasn’t exposed to Africa’s beautiful mosaic of sounds and cultures. I only knew music from the US and not much else.
Moving to Toronto and experiencing the diverse cultures of the Caribbean, Latino and African diasporas living here has opened my life to so much joy, respect, and appreciation for different cultures from around the world.
Every day, every conversation, every concert, every festival and every party is an opportunity to learn something new. To talk and exchange stories. To honour someone’s background, culture, tradition and history.
The world has enough negativity — I want to celebrate something positive for a change.
The unexpected happened at Toronto’s inaugural Afro-Caribbean Plantain I was alone and had gotten there before anybody arrived. The music was bumping, but nobody was dancing — So I started grooving.
Fast forward a few hours. I’d made some new friends. Now we had a little crew dancing on the summer grass. The festival started filling up, but the dancers were scarce — I kept dancing.
Next thing I know, the DJ yells into his mic, “Yo! We’re going to start a dance competition. Come on up to the front. You!” He points to me. “My Asian brother, you’re killing it! Come on up here!”
I’m not going to lie. I was scared and embarrassed.
I love dancing, but I’m not 100% comfortable performing in front of an audience.
My dance crew encouraged me, “do it for us! You got this!” they shouted.
I open my eyes, I’m on stage, dancing alongside professional dancers. I can’t even think. My body’s high on nerves and adrenaline.
Everyone’s screaming and cheering.
What a rush.
My legs shook and I sounded like a bumbling fool.
But what an experience! — And it all started because I went on my own.
