Sitting alone in a cinema is probably most, if not any awkward person's worst nightmare. Like if you’d asked me 5 years ago or even a year ago if I would ever do that I’d of laughed in your face and told you to get fucked. 

This one though, this thing is different. It is not universal to awkward people. There are many, many people who just simply don’t feel comfortable being alone. 

This has never been a problem for me, I’m an introvert. A lot of the time I prefer my own company. Not because I’m miserable or because I think I’m better than anyone else but because it is where I charge. It is where I am creative, or at least attempt to be! 

So that’s probably where you are thinking, OK, if you sometimes prefer your own company what’s the hold up with going to the cinema on your own?

I’ll tell you: being observed in solitude. Or rather, being observed as a singular entity.

It feels like a violation. Suddenly you become aware of every single thing you are doing. The way you are breathing, moving; how you opened a door. You are holding your breath on your entire existence out of fear that someone is going to see it.

You ever feel like that? It can feel a little taxing (yes, I know that’s an understatement but I’m trying to reign in being the mother fucking queen of blowing things out of proportion, OK!?) 

The shame-ometer was running high leading up to this event. I ended up oversleeping and missing my morning walk because it was far too busy now to go and subject myself to peoply-ness when I was already allotting time to that later. I couldn’t possibly squeeze it in now. I need the next few hours to do nothing but wait to leave. 

I’m looking at new angles to approach the blog and fleetingly got the idea to film my reactions and feelings. Seeing awkward anxiety in real time kind of thing. So, I filmed an initial video at home, then I filmed one in my car before going into the cinema and I had all intense purposes of posting them but then I had the crippling fear of thinking I was going to have to film myself going into the cinema, the whole cinematic experience and that people would be seeing that I’m vlogging. 

Now, I want to stress that I do not judge anyone who vlogs. I settled for the fact that in the moment that I was already putting my body through an excruciating amount of stress and that this was something that I would park, for now and perhaps work up to that. 

If you’d be interested in seeing that, let me know. Y’know, if you need a laugh.

Instead, I’m giving you some somewhat running commentary.

In I go. Didn’t pull the door that said ‘push’ - win!

I was getting popcorn and a hot drink. There was no negotiating with myself about that.

Why do they over fill the popcorn bags? I’m losing my sweet and salty left, right and centre and it's not socially acceptable to burrow your face in the bag (don’t make rude jokes now). 

What do I do instead? Hover over the bin whilst looking like a fucking squirrel necking nuts, never a good look for a lesbian (I went there. I’m not sorry). 

I chose an aisle seat. Easy exit, least chance of ‘being in the way’ and prayed to god that a couple did absolutely fucking NOT book seats next to me. 

Only a handful of people, good. I chose a weekday, early afternoon showing for that reason also. Small exposure. Teeny, tiny steps y’all. 

 I can see why cinema’s are appealing to people who don’t want to be seen, the darkness and all that. Y’know…until the fucking, bright ass screen comes on! 

You end up demolishing half the bag of popcorn before the films even started too. 

I have only seen snippets of the trailer for this film and ashamed to say I have not yet read the book but I was about to watch Hamnet. 

Something that I had not accounted for was some of the content. The opening credits listed that there was some sexual content or references. 

I felt my awkwardness sky rocket as I squirmed in my seat anticipating it.

“ Oh shit, they're gonna do it, they are gonna be jumping bones and this is the film I have chosen for exposure therapy!...what the fuck Laura!?” 

Thankfully, it was within the first 15 minutes of the film but I found myself in that moment back as 9 year old me watching ‘that scene’ in Dirty Dancing through my fingers tucked on the stairs, because the thought of sitting in the living room with my parents felt repulsive. 

But the moment passed and no one died. 

*Film Spoiler alert* 

At least not yet. 

Another thing I hadn’t accounted for. I’m a wear-my-heart on my sleeve kind of girlie… 

(girlie?....GIRLIE?! 38 Laura, you're 38!).

 I’m also a blubber and there are parts of this movie that are desperately, achingly sad and my god, I bawled my eyes out but….

As much as I was concerned about someone else seeing that, I couldn’t stop it and more importantly, I didn’t want to. 

Then I started hearing sniffles and I knew that meant that someone else was OK with expressing their emotion in front of a room somewhat full of strangers. 

I might have been sitting alone but I wasn’t alone in what I felt. 

Then the credits started rolling and as the tears were rolling down my face I was stunned at myself, I’d done it, I’d gotten through it. 

Holy fuck. If I can do it awkard as I am, there’s hope for all of us awkward fuckers. 

I wanted to do this for myself but I was also inspired to see it through this week by someone else’s brave act of choosing to be seen.

So with all my heart, thank you. 

Stay awkward. Do it scared. X