In my first year of university, I saw crowds of first-years playing games, eating snacks, and sporting matching Frosh t-shirts, aware that I didn’t have one. Over dinner, a friend said, “I’m worried you’ll be lonely this weekend.”
“No,” I responded with a smile. While I appreciated the care and concern, I planned to use the time to explore the city. I’d already filled my schedule with solo trips to Verdun Beach and the Biodome.
While my choice to abstain from Frosh partly revolved around the event’s hefty price tag, it really centred on my obsession with solo trips. I love spending my afternoons meandering Old Port and adding new shops to my list. Wandering around the base of Mont Royal in autumn. Beyond a nice break from school and work, my random “side quests” give me a sense of self-fulfilment. Walking towards a destination I’ve chosen or completing a “challenge” that I’ve set for myself allows me to accomplish personal ambitions, even if they are small. My solo trips drive me to engage with the world around me, instead of being in a bubble at home or school. Ultimately, the objective of a good side quest is to feel a sense of peace. To step out of my hectic busy life and spend some me-time.
The internet, it seems, has recently fallen in love with the concept of the side quest. The term comes from video gaming, where a player is allowed diversions irrespective of the game’s main objective. From that original definition, the term has since grown to mean any fun, purposeful activity that doesn’t align with our work or school lives. Side quests can be in the form of projects like learning a new language or crocheting a hat, but they don’t necessarily have to be productive. Aimlessly strolling through your local library—no goal in mind—works too.
On social media, many creators will vlog their trips to the park, painting, arcade, beach, and more. Usually, those side quests will be completed with friends. Mini-adventures with friends connect us in ways that simply can’t be done online or in a professional setting. Yet as side quests bond us to our friends, solo side quests bond us to ourselves. One doesn’t need a group of friends to play in the snow, look through shops, or go out to the movies. Doing common, social adventures in solitude is freeing—the only person I need to experience fun and relaxation is myself. Additionally, side quests often incorporate valuable self-care practices like exercise, fresh air, and time away from screens.
This isn’t to say that doing side quests on one’s lonesome can’t be lonely. On my fifth self-picnic in the span of one summer month, I started to go a bit nuts. It felt like the perfectly shady spot I’d found and the baked cookies I made were going to waste if I was the only one enjoying them. Not to mention how distressful it can be to stew in your thoughts for a day. Yet feeling comfortable in solitude is a side quest in itself, and a rewarding one. Through side quests, I get to direct my own adventures and explore places I might never have gone if I were with a group. It made me realize that treating myself to a nice experience is just as important as sharing it with friends. In fact, it has made me appreciate moments spent with others even more because the memories that would typically be mine alone are now shared amongst my friends.
As a student, I’m forced to spend a lot of time by myself—for homework, studying, and daily commutes—but through solo side quests, I’ve been able to embrace the solitude. Being alone isn’t “sad” but a necessary part of our lives, and I might as well have fun doing it. So, if you want to take that trip, go to that restaurant, see that movie, or embark on your first spring picnic, don’t be afraid to do it by yourself.
