Solitude isn’t loneliness—it’s liberation.

A few weeks ago, I received a text: “Should I live alone or move back in with my parents?” My friend had lived with the same roommate for half a decade, and life was inviting a change. To me, the answer felt obvious—perhaps that’s only because I’d already taken the plunge. 

I was 20 years old when I first lived alone. It was a drastic transition from the home I’d grown up in to a one-bedroom apartment, 40 miles away (to Angelenos, I might as well have moved cross-country). I didn’t know a single person in my new city, and a growing pain was definitely felt. But I’d soon learn that it was only the beginning of the next (very important) four years. Yes, living alone is an economic privilege—for anyone. But living alone as a woman is not inconsiderate—it’s self-honoring. 

In my response, I asked my friend, “What happens when a woman builds a life that belongs solely to her?” 

Related Posts:

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• Staying Focus-Driven: How Giuliana Mendoza Tunes Out the Noise & Focuses on Her Purpose
• 7 Books on Self-Awareness to Become a Better Person

Society tells us women are not meant to be alone 

Women across cultures are brought up to serve others—emotionally, logistically, physically—even in the modern world and in such subtle ways that you might not notice it until a moment relieves you of those duties. Despite the feminist movement making significant social strides, society still manages to whisper rewards for partnership and condemnation for solitude.

In response to the longer, more philosophical answer than she probably expected, my friend replied, “So you’re team ‘Live on Your Own.’ That’s where I’m leaning too, but I don’t know—I feel bad.” 

And there it is. Right on time: feminine guilt. 

She wasn’t feeling bad for her multiple years of cohabitating with a friend. Perhaps because it felt justified for reducing costs on behalf of herself and another. Possibly the righteousness of providing company was enough to rationalize. And yet, given the option of her preference—personal space—she felt shame. Precisely my point. 

What happens when a woman learns to hear her own voice 

If the opportunity arises, women should, at some point, choose solitude, for what accompanies it is invaluable and rare: self-rootedness, independence, and autonomy. 

At first, the feeling might be odd, even uncomfortable, not just from the sudden silence of external noise but from the internal clutter, as well. 

When the alarm goes off in the morning, she’ll make her way out of bed, moving through her mute space, pour some coffee, take a shower, get dressed, and leave for work—all without saying a word. Saying “goodbye” to a coworker before clocking out some evenings might be her voice’s grand finale for the night (at least with an audience). So long as she doesn’t work from home, like I. 

Her ordinary choices will be perceived and influenced by none other than her own heart and mind

Perhaps she’ll make an occasional call. But eventually, she’s thinking most of her thoughts aloud and becoming accustomed to constant background noise—classical music, television, or podcasts.

But what did she eat for breakfast? Anything? How much sugar did she add to her coffee with no one to judge? Was her shower a silent one? Or perhaps she rehearsed her monologue for the afternoon presentation. 

Talking and singing to herself won’t be the sole side effects of her sovereignty. Eventually, she’ll see its impact—subtly, at first, and then all at once. Her confidence, habits, and emotional regulation will become natural responses to her truest thoughts. 

When anxiety arises, she’ll find no distractions. She might look around, desperate for a reason to perform—but the room will be empty. When the inevitable sadness arrives unannounced, perhaps she’ll put on a romantic comedy. And possibly, this isn’t an unusual response. But the film she plays will be nothing other than a choice of her own. 

Her ordinary choices will be perceived and influenced by none other than her own heart and mind: what to eat for dinner; what song to sing in the shower; how long the shower will be. Maybe the lights will be off. Maybe a single candle will be lit. I wonder if the soundtrack will be Lana Del Rey’s voice or that of a self-honoring silence. 

And after that, who’s to say if she wears silk pajamas, a 10-year-old t-shirt, or nothing at all when she tucks herself into bed,  saying, “Sweet dreams, Self.”

Getting over the myth of loneliness

The weight of being alone is only a temporary feeling. And like any weight, picking it up often enough will strengthen the muscle of being alone. 

It’s only natural that the first moments of reclamation will look like an empty space, but as an anonymous (probably female) person once said, “Sometimes you need to be alone. Not to be lonely, but to enjoy your free time being yourself.”

It’s no secret that the same invisible weight can exist even when we’re among others. And in the opposite way, solitude can feel deeply fulfilling. In fact, in its truest form, the need to be seen and heard more often stems from the feeling of abandonment than state of solitude. Kent Nerburn wrote it well in Simple Truths:

“Loneliness is like sitting in an empty room and being aware of the space around you. It is a condition of separateness. Solitude is becoming one with the space around you. It is a condition of union.” 

This otherness is among the most feared states in modern life: feeling alone, eating alone, sleeping alone, dying alone. But so much of our activity is rooted in a thing so separate from ourselves and our true desires. Perhaps you’re exhausted, but among company at a party. Disengaged, but among company watching TV. Heartbroken, but among company, feeling worse. 

When you’re able to be alone, you can truly listen to yourself for a moment, hear what’s needed, and do that thing. Whether it includes, satisfies, or benefits another person mustn’t always be your concern. Only then will the company of yourself become more fulfilling than that of others. 

Living alone as a woman—when every season is your own 

Of course, much of this applies to everyone—but for women especially, living alone can be a rare and radical act of self prioritization, resisting the socialization that her life is only meaningful when making sacrifices for another. 

Is the purpose of life to enrich the lives of others? Possibly. Is it also a purpose of life to unapologetically enjoy your own? I’d like to think so. But if that’s too radical, perhaps begin with getting to know yourself, in the truest way—undistracted, uncoerced, unrestricted. Carve out a season of solitude, plant some seeds, and give yourself some room to grow. Because when the only person you’re living for is you, it’s wild what you’ll discover.

Besides, as I told my friend, living alone isn’t forever—unless she wants it to be. 

Recommended Reading:

• How to Live a More Analog Life: 5 easy, cheap (or free) ideas
• Embrace Being a Loner—Why February Is the Perfect Time
• No Date? No Problem—A Guide to Dating Yourself in 2025
• 5 New Things I Want to Do Alone This Year
• How to Balance Solitude and a Social Life: A Dual Guide for Introverts & Extroverts

Isabel Ravenna is a journalist and editor-in-chief of The Ravenna Report. Her work—featured in National Geographic, Business Insider, Complex and SFGate—explores culture, history, identity, and the quiet revolutions we live every day.

The post Living Alone as a Woman: Why Every Woman Should Live Alone at Least Once appeared first on A Merry Loner.

February isn’t just for lovers—it’s for loners, too.

Ah, Valentine’s Day. Yet another day manipulated by modern man to make us feel bad about ourselves or spend too much money on crap we don’t need. (Or both.)

And believe it or not, I’m a romantic!

I won’t be celebrating Valentine’s Day this year. Not because I’m single. Not because I’m lonely. But really, I just don’t care. My husband and I don’t celebrate Valentine’s Day, nor do we celebrate our anniversary. We just celebrate life together.

Don’t worry—this is not a self-righteous speech on my rejection of commercialism, over-consumption, or materialism. (That’s here. And here.) I get it. People like to have fun! And sometimes in our spiraling world of moral decay, greed, and unspeakable political debauchery, clinging to these rosy, Hallmark holidays is all we have.

If that’s what you’re into, then I warmly raise my glass to you, and I want to make sure you have a seat at the table.

Valentine’s Day shouldn’t be reserved for the kinds of people who post picture-perfect, candlelit dinners on Instagram—and then fight on the way home from the restaurant. Nor should it be reserved for couples who are actually, truly, honest-to-goodness in love. (Don’t they have enough as it is?)

If you’re starry-eyed, gooey-hearted, Taylor-Swift-encoded, and all-around gaga for the Big Grand Day of Love, then you should also partake—no matter what box you’re checking on your taxes just 60 days later.

By the way, let’s not be confused: Being a Loner doesn’t necessarily mean you’re single. After all, Loners aren’t anti-social. Loners don’t lack companionship. And (above all), Loners aren’t lonely. They just know how to find value in their own company.

• So maybe you’re single this year.
• Maybe you’re in a relationship, but your partner isn’t so hot on Valentine’s Day.
• Maybe you want to have fun, but you’re not really into the whole Galentine’s Day thing—or you don’t have a good group of girlfriends at the moment to celebrate with.

No matter your situation, sometimes the best Valentine’s Day gift you can receive is from yourself: a night dedicated to nothing but your own interests.

If the latest rom-com doesn’t enthuse you, let’s look beyond the stereotypical ideas for spending Valentine’s Day alone. Instead, here are six rejuvenating (non-cringey) ways to celebrate a Loner’s Valentine’s Day:

Related Posts:

• No Date? No Problem—A Guide to Dating Yourself in 2025
• 5 New Things I Want to Do Alone This Year
• Embrace Being a Loner—Why February Is the Perfect Time

1. Write love letters to your friends

Is there anything more romantic these days than receiving a letter in the mail?

I can’t be the only one dreaming about living a more analog life, and taking your best friends’ text conversations from the digital to the tactile is a perfect solo Valentine’s Day activity to give yourself (and your relationships) a break from screen time.

Sure, you could also plan a Valentine’s Day video chat with a long-distance friend—but wouldn’t a surprise, handwritten, made-with-love-in-every-syllable letter brighten their day just a little bit more?

To elevate your evening of correspondence even more, first take your time to meander through your local stationary shop to hand-pick calligraphy pens, glitter markers, stickers (paint? ribbon? stencils?), and as much crafty goodness as your heart desires to create a letter that truly surprises and delights.

2. Indulge in a bubble bath and wine

Insert that ubiquitous Julia Roberts meme here. Need I say more?

Surely, you need no convincing that a bubble bath is the salve to all the world’s ailments? A broken heart. Cold toes. Bored Sunday afternoons. And a Loner’s Valentine’s Day is no exception.

Growing up, my mom would always reference this 1978 commercial where an overwhelmed, overstimulated (and probably under-appreciated) woman stresses aloud about traffic, work, and parenting (has nothing changed?) before calling upon the magical bath powder: “Caglon, take me away!”

Then, over a B-roll of said woman indulging in a fluff, pillowy cloud of bubbles wafting from a not-so-quiet-luxury marble bath, the retro announcer tells us:

“Lose your cares in the luxury of a Calgon bath.” And then: “Lose yourself in luxury.”

Honestly, that tagline still holds up today. And I gotta say, Valentine’s Day or not, spending hours soaking in bath oils and salts with a candle or two lighting the way and a glass(es) of wine at your fingertips is pretty much always a good idea.

3. Plan a zero-social-interaction day

With remote work that follows you home and notifications that never stop, unplugging is really the only way to remove the digital shackles and regain some sense of stillness.

Even for diehard social butterflies, putting your relationships on pause for a day and spending a little time with just yourself can do wonders for your mental health (and as a byproduct, your physical health, too).

• For uninterrupted lounging with the security of knowing you can still check your messages, switch your phone to silent.
• For something a little closer to the cone of silence, activate airline mode—and resist the temptation to check in.
• For hard-core relaxing, completely power-down your phone. Instead, pick up a book. Veg out with a marathon of your comfort show. Make yourself an elaborate cocktail—or literally anything in this list of 100 self-care ideas that doesn’t involve obsessively checking your phone. (You can do it!)

4. Take yourself on a date

The quintessential single person’s Valentine’s Day activity.

The bold will put on their very best little black dress or suit, reserve a table for one at the most date-y restaurant in your neighborhood, and order the special for two—to be eaten by one.

But if dining on display in all your solitude amidst the date nights is a little out of your comfort zone, that’s okay. There are other places to take yourself on a solo Valentine’s Day date, like consuming a large popcorn and too much candy at the cinema or wearing an elegant dress and staring cryptically at sculptures in an art gallery.

Not convinced? Contributing writer Eleanor Jones lays out the reasons to start taking yourself on more solo dates (plus a few solo date ideas you can lean on year-round) in A Merry Loner’s Guide to Dating Yourself.

5. Go on a spontaneous solo weekend trip

If Valentine’s Day falls on pretty much any day but Tuesday or Wednesday, why not go all the way and make a weekend out of it?

I’m having visions of a cozy seaside or mountainous bed and breakfast—not in a hot-and-happening destination but in a little, middle-of-nowhere town with nothing to do but stroll, get coffee, and peruse the local library.

There will be omelettes for breakfast and thick cashmere sweaters and maybe even the light smattering of rain and an upholstered armchair, if you’re lucky. Most importantly, there will be no one to answer to but the waiter asking if you would like to order dessert.

6. Do something nice for someone else

Be honest. Is being single on Valentine’s Day making you feel a bit crappy?

There’s nothing wrong with that. You don’t need to get so hopped up on blind positivity that you deny yourself real emotions.

Maybe last year you had the Valentine’s Day of your dreams, and this year you’re still thinking about all the threads that came undone. Or maybe you’ve never had the Valentine’s Day you’ve always hoped for and you’re starting to wonder if it’ll ever happen.

Feeling blue sometimes is valid—and no amount of positive affirmations or manifestations can wipe your soul of its full-bodied spectrum of yearning. Nor should it.

Instead, I find sometimes the best way to feel better about yourself is to spend less time thinking about yourself.

• Visit a nursing home.
• Volunteer at an animal shelter.
• Give some of your time to a soup kitchen.

It may be Valentine’s Day, but the world carries on. And there are a lot of people who aren’t getting red roses today, tomorrow, or the next day. But your time, your compassion, and your smile can give them—and you—much more.

Embrace Loner Living every month of the year

Valentine’s Day is an occasion when we spotlight our relationships. But in the words of contributing writer Nikita Andester:

“Your relationship with yourself is the longest you’ll ever have.”

Are you paying it enough attention?

Taking the time to learn more about yourself and your evolving relationship with you is more valuable than any box of imported chocolates.

Wanna work on it? Sign up for A Merry Loner’s 7-Day Do Things Alone Challenge to reflect on your relationship with you.

Recommended Reading:

• 9 Books on My 2025 Reading List
• How to Live a More Analog Life: 5 easy, cheap (or free) ideas
• How to Get Over Yourself and Go to that Damn Wedding, Gloriously Solo
• Ultimate Guide to Self-Care: 100 Self-Care Ideas
• 20 Journal Prompts for Anger | How Anger Writing Prompts Can Help You Work Through Your Feelings

The post How to Celebrate a Loner’s Valentine Day appeared first on A Merry Loner.

I used to find January and February the dullest months of the year. Now, they’re my most-savored weeks of respite. Especially February.

January is full of that new-year’s-resolution gusto when we’re inspired to be better, do more, or do less—but in a systematically thoughtful, mindful way where we meditate, exercise, and journal with new-year-new-me diligence.

Several weeks later, when March brings budding spring days and sunnier attitudes on the horizon, we’re back at it again. Spring cleaning. Purging the new bad habits that somehow already seemed to accumulate in the last eight to 10 weeks. And entering yet another period of rebirth—one where (this time) we promise to be more dedicated and steadfast in our pursuits.

Fast-forward to May, and “summer” is the word on everyone’s lips.

What kind of Insert-Pop-Culture-Reference-Here Summer will this one be? Where are you traveling? Whom are you partying with? Most importantly, what are you wearing? (Do you have any packing hacks?) And quick—how can you get a whatever-body-part-is-now-being-sensationalized summer body in just 10 days?

Then, before your last tan line has even faded, the onslaught of cozy-core consumption is upon us.

Snuggly sweaters to buy (no matter if they’re filled with plastic). Candles with names like cinnamon, spice, and everything Made in China. Halloween parties and Thanksgiving recipes and the all-encompassing, fever-inducing holiday rush.

It doesn’t matter what your religion is—consumerism is the faith that binds us all.

Gift guides and EOY round-ups and enough “best of” lists to make you forget you ever had your own opinion about what books and movies you like.

And then the cycle begins again in January. Resolutions and meditations. Goals and plans and predictions.

By February, we’re all one big, exhausted heap of worn-out social obligations and self-improvement. And what irks me the most is how quick people are to want to rush past it!

“Ugh, this month is so short, but it passes so slowly.” “I can’t wait for spring.” “When will the winter end?”

I don’t want it to end.

I’ve come to welcome the chilly embrace of February and all its gray days and overcast overtures. It’s now my favorite time of year because it’s the month without expectations. It’s the month to slow down, look inward, and focus on embracing Loner Living.

In other words, it’s the perfect month to be a loner.

If you haven’t already embraced being a loner, February is the ideal time to test the waters of solitude. Let me convince you:

Related Posts:

• No Date? No Problem—A Guide to Dating Yourself in 2025
• 5 New Things I Want to Do Alone This Year
• How to Balance Solitude and a Social Life: A Dual Guide for Introverts & Extroverts

There’s no pressure to be outside lest you “waste” a beautiful day.

Sometimes, I want to waste a beautiful day.

The sun may be shining and the birds may be chirping, but I want to spend the morning taking a bath. I want to emerge a few hours later, moisturized and wrinkly, and retire to my velvet armchair for a few hours of lazy reading.

In the spring, there’s too much pressure to “take advantage” of the first sunny days.

In the summer, there are beaches and lakes and patios and barbecues calling your name, and you feel guilty if you turn down these opportunities to stay home in your cocoon.

And in the fall and winter, there are far too many seasonal activities to dominate your leisure time. Fun as these holiday festivities may be, when they’re too abundant, it’s hard to tell them apart from the obligations on your eternal to-do list.

But February is a loner’s haven. It’s your cold-weather, dark-day invitation to go ahead: Waste the day. Stay inside and relax. Do as much (or as little) as you want, and laze to your heart’s content.

Everyone’s partied out after the holidays—so the weekends are all yours.

I love a party as much as the next person. I like putting on nice shoes and lipstick and letting it all get smudged away by rambling conversations and too many glasses of wine.

I’m not the best host; I don’t really cook, nor do I have a kitchen table or more than one chair in my apartment. But my husband and I love hosting dinner parties. (He cooks; I wash.) I always enjoy a night with friends and acquaintances and assorted tag-alongs, where mayhem makes way for mellow conversations that melt into the early morning.

But by January, I’ve had enough.

I’m tired of eating. Tired of drinking. Tired of bustling from one event to the next with hardly enough time to digest the food, the merriment, and the chaos.

After this three-month sprint of fêting, I welcome the social wasteland of February. My weekends are my own again, and I may spend them as I please:

• Sleeping late
• Going for early-morning walks to the farmer’s market
• Reading for hours in bed
• Having a good, old-fashioned movie marathon and popcorn for dinner
• Practicing yoga for more than the 30 minutes I try to squeeze in on weekdays

In February, no one is competing for my time. I get it all.

We’re past the new year’s resolutions and all the pressure to optimize your down time.

Even when your down time is your own, inevitably, other voices creep in. Often, they’re at their loudest in the first weeks of the new year.

In the initial quiet after the holiday season, your free time becomes an entity—one that must be optimized.

I’m going to cook more. Read more. Exercise more. Drink less. Scroll less. Clean out that closet.

Suddenly, everything becomes a “project,” and the activities that were intended for relaxation and rejuvenation start to feel like nagging responsibilities.

February shoos all that away.

It’s okay if you spend Friday night alone rewatching an old guilty pleasure. Nobody will care (or even know) if you broke your “no-takeout” rule because sushi was desired, sushi was ordered, and sushi was enjoyed.

Between January’s annual burst of resolve and March’s desire to be born again, February gives you space to just be.

The many ways to embrace being a loner

I’m partial to ambling through bookstores or reading in a café by myself. This February, you won’t catch me out of bed before 11:00 AM on Sundays, where I’ll be cocooned—my coffee and candles within reach—working my way through the nine books on my 2025 reading list.

I’ll also spend a fair amount of time pretzeling myself on my yoga mat or heading across the street to sign up for a pottery class, which is one of the five new things I want to try by myself this year.

Even though I fall victim to the doom-scroll from time to time (and then get unreasonably annoyed at myself for it), I’m going to try to keep my February loner time screen-free. It’s all a part of my dream to live a more analog life.

If holing up with a book isn’t your way of Loner Living (or if you want to try something new), I encourage you to check out contributing writer Eleanor Jones’s Guide to Dating Yourself, where she shares solo date ideas and tips for going on your first solo date.

After all, February isn’t just for lovers. It’s for loners, too.

Recommended Reading:

• 9 Books on My 2025 Reading List
• How to Live a More Analog Life: 5 easy, cheap (or free) ideas
• Ultimate Guide to Self-Care: 100 Self-Care Ideas
• How to Get Over Yourself and Go to that Damn Wedding, Gloriously Solo
• How Heather’s Lonely Year at Uni Became the Springboard to Her Greatest Adventures

The post Embrace Being a Loner—Why February Is the Perfect Time appeared first on A Merry Loner.

If there’s something you really want to do, why wait for a date?

The term “dating yourself” gets a lot of flack. It brings to mind a single Bridget Jones singing into her hairbrush (which I’m totally on board with, by the way).

But dating yourself doesn’t have to be cheesy, awkward, embarrassing, or the myriad of other things you’re probably thinking. It’s about learning how to feel comfortable in your own company—and not waiting until you have a partner to do the things you love.

I have a boyfriend but I often choose to go on solo dates. Why? Because I like spending time alone. I like choosing what I do, where I eat, and where I go. In the past few months, I’ve arranged a day trip to a local city. I’ve watched a ballet. I’ve taken myself to the cinema to watch a new film. All by myself.

I’m a social person, but I make an active choice to do things alone all the time. And you can, too.

Related Posts:

• 5 New Things I Want to Do Alone This Year
• How to Get Over Yourself and Go to that Damn Wedding, Gloriously Solo
• Accepting Your Fate (Finding Acceptance Alone)

Why should you date yourself?

The idea of dating yourself isn’t a new one. For years, it’s been used to describe the self-improvement single people do before getting into a new relationship.

But in recent years, we’ve seen a boom in people literally taking themselves out for dates. In fact, as of this writing, #solodate has over 149K posts on Instagram.

We’re recognizing that solo dating is a fun, empowering, and exciting way to get to know yourself, whether you’re in a relationship or not.

Here’s why you should date yourself in 2025:

You can do what you want, when you want

Have you and your partner ever argued about where you want to eat? Or maybe you and your friend can’t decide on an activity? Guess what—that doesn’t happen when you date yourself.

You get to decide where you go, what you eat, how long you stay, and what you do next. Trust me, it’s freeing.

You don’t have to make plans with anyone else. You can be as structured or spontaneous as you like. It’s all up to you.

Tip: Create a rough plan for your solo date. It’ll help you make decisions while you’re out, especially if it’s your first time dating yourself.

You can get to know yourself better

I know, I know. I said I wouldn’t be cheesy. But spending time alone really can teach you about yourself.

What do you enjoy? What makes you tick? What triggers your anxiety? By spending time alone, you can start to answer these questions.

Life can get busy. Spend some mindful time with yourself to gain a greater awareness of who you are and what you want.

The more you date yourself, the more you’ll get used to spending time alone. You’ll feel more comfortable going to events solo—and you might even feel more confident in other areas of your life too.

Tip: Lean into self-improvement by reflecting on your solo date. Write down the things you enjoyed (and the things you didn’t) for next time.

You don’t have to worry about finding a date

If there’s something you really want to do, why wait for a date? Dating yourself means you’ll always have someone to take you out.

So what if you don’t have a partner (or even if you do)? Treat yourself to a nice lunch, go to your local public library, go for a walk, or book a pottery class. (Extra mindfulness points if your solo date involves analog activities.)

As author Flannery O’Connor said, “In yourself right now is all the place you’ve got.” Follow her lead to do the things you want to do—partner or not.

Tip: Write down a list of places you want to visit, films you want to watch, or foods you want to try. That way, you’ll have a ready-made list of ideas for your solo date.

Still not ready to take yourself on a solo date?

Baby steps. Sign up for A Merry Loner’s 7-Day Do Things Alone Challenge for help getting better at doing things alone. You’ll get:

• Daily bite-sized challenges to help you experiment with doing things alone
• A judgment-free zone to share all your feels about how the day’s activity went
• Daily journal prompts to help you process and learn from what you did that day

The best solo date ideas for 2025

So, it’s time to ask yourself out on a date. You’re the best company you’ve got and you’re not going anywhere, so why not get to know yourself a little better?

If this is your first time dating yourself, start small. Go for a walk or visit your local art gallery to get comfortable being in your own company.

Once you get a bit more confident, go for a meal at that new restaurant. Or finally book a weekend at that spa you’ve always wanted to try. The world’s your oyster!

Here’s a bit of inspiration for your solo date:

Go to a cooking class

Or any class for that matter. Dating yourself is the perfect chance to do something you really want to try, whether that’s cooking, flower arranging, ceramics, yoga, photography, or singing.

You might find a new passion or you might not enjoy it as much as you thought. Either way, trying something new by yourself is bold and empowering.

Visit an art gallery

Sometimes, the best solo date ideas are right on our doorsteps. Don’t be afraid to explore your local art galleries, museums, and historical landmarks.

They’re a good starting point for dating yourself, and you’ll find a lot of other people who are there alone, too.

If you want to push yourself even further, hop on a train to a nearby city. A day wandering around a new place (while taking in lots of beautiful art) sounds pretty dreamy to me.

Go on a hike

A hike is a great way to spend some time with yourself. Stick on your favorite podcast or get to know yourself while you walk.

I love getting out into nature. It’s a chance to think through any problems in your life, get some exercise, and admire beautiful landscapes alone.

But make sure to stay safe if you’re heading out by yourself. Share your location and stick to routes you already know.

Take yourself out for lunch

The idea of going for dinner by yourself can be a bit daunting, so why not go for lunch instead?

You could visit your local café or take yourself out for a cute picnic. These activities are typically seen as romantic, so use them to get to know yourself in 2025.

Tip: This is a date, so make sure to treat yourself. Order your favorite foods—and always get dessert if you want it.

Go to the cinema

I love going to the cinema with my boyfriend, friends, and family. But sometimes, a film comes out that no one else wants to see. So I take myself.

The first time I went to the cinema alone, I thought everyone would stare at me. But it’s true what they say: Everyone is focused on themselves. No one cares that you’re there alone. So you shouldn’t either.

Going to the cinema alone is one of life’s small pleasures. No one will steal your popcorn, and no one will talk through the movie. You can just sit back and enjoy 2+ hours of uninterrupted bliss.

Dating yourself in 2025

What are you waiting for? I dare you to take yourself out on a solo date in 2025.

Ask yourself out for dinner, book a trip to the cinema, or head for a nature hike. The only drawback? You always have to pay.

Recommended Reading:

• Alone at Night in Paris—Where to Take Yourself on a Solo Date
• In Defense of Laughing Alone
• How Heather’s Lonely Year at Uni Became the Springboard to Her Greatest Adventures
• Did This French Writer Just Reveal the Secret to Happiness?
• Ultimate Guide to Self-Care: 100 Self-Care Ideas

Eleanor Jones is a freelance writer based in the UK. She loves reading, writing, and walking in nature. Sometimes with her friends and family, sometimes alone. Check out her blog for writing updates, freelance resources, book reviews, and more: notsomoderngirl.com

The post No Date? No Problem—A Guide to Dating Yourself in 2025 appeared first on A Merry Loner.

I’m not waiting for someone else to join me

Are you ever daunted by the number of things you want to do? Besides the banalities of daily responsibilities (e.g., schedule doctor’s appointment; clean bathtub; hang up picture frames), my notebooks, Notes app, and many, many emails to myself are replete with reminders of even more things I want to do in the future.

Emphasis on the word “want.” These are not work responsibilities or household chores or personal admin tasks that seem to grow back in triplets for every one I accomplish. No, these are the things I actually want to do—goals, dreams, challenges, quests, whatever you want to call them.

Too often, these ventures get pushed to the side, neglected because we feel we don’t have enough time to dedicate to them. Even more often, I find we neglect these ventures because we think we don’t have the right person to do them with—the right set of friends, the perfect partner, whatever.

But if there’s something you want to do (or even just try out for the first time to see what you think), you really don’t need to waste time seeking out whom you might think is the requisite companion. You can just go ahead and do it, all on your lonesome. Because that lonesome can end up becoming your lifeline of wholesome in society’s chaotic maelstrom.

This year, I’m not waiting. I’m prioritizing the new things I want to do and I’m going out there and doing them—by myself. This is what’s in the calendar:

Related Posts:

• How to Get Over Yourself and Go to that Damn Wedding, Gloriously Solo
• How to Balance Solitude and a Social Life: A Dual Guide for Introverts & Extroverts
• In Defense of Laughing Alone

1. Join a book club

I know, like I need more books to add to my unachievable-y long list of books to read. But I think going to a book club regularly feels retro and charming—just the kind of old-school, off-line activity that I’ve been looking for lately to make my life more analog.

I found two groups in Paris that I want to check out: a French feminist book club and a 20s-and-30s English book club. I like mixing up my reading between English and French, so I think I’m going to try both—will report back if there are any good reads.

Recommended Reading:

• Easiest Classic Novels to Read | 18 Easy-to-Read Classics for Beginners
• The 5 Best Books I Read in 2024

2. Learn how to make pottery

There’s a pottery studio directly across the street from my apartment, and I believe it’s God’s intent to lead me there.

My kitchen cupboard’s full of mismatched, flea market finds, and I’d love to add some of my own creations to the mix, however wonky such first creations may be.

Plus, I love that this is a tactile, get-your-hands-dirty hobby. Considering my work and the majority of my hobbies involve me staring at screens (or at least at the written word), a little manual manipulation should do me a world of good.

3. Start volunteering once a month

Yeah, once a month isn’t a very lofty goal, but I’m trying to be realistic. Especially since (I’m sorry to say) it’s been years since volunteering was a part of my regular routine, it’ll be a bit of an adjustment to add it back into my schedule.

I’ve been checking out some options of what I can do in Paris, and I’m thinking of joining this community where you go and spend time with the elderly, particularly isolated members of the community who may not have anyone. Or, as the DeepL translation of the organization’s website says: “combat the isolation and loneliness of the elderly, especially the most disadvantaged, and enable them to regain a taste for life.”

My mom worked at a nursing home when I was growing up, and I would often go there to spend time with the residents in the recreation room, just chatting or playing games with them. It’s small, but it really can make a big difference for a lot of people.

Plus, joining an organization like this is definitely further outside of my comfort zone than going to a book club or a pottery class—and that’s kind of the point of this whole do things alone exercise, right?

4. Go to a concert

Last year, like millions of other Swiftian enthusiasts, I lived out my dream of going to The Eras Tour.

I spent an embarrassing amount of money on a ticket, crashed at a friend’s house in Warsaw, and grooved the night away. Separately, I was a bit dismayed by the lack of singing and dancing at the concert. At least considering the people next to me, I was one of the few not silently and dispassionately watching the show through the screen of my phone. But that’s another story.

I had a blast going to the Taylor Swift concert by myself, and I’m ready to party solo at another concert this year. This time, I’ll be heading to Barry Manilow’s The Last Concert in Providence. (Yes, I love these retro jams. And no, I have no shame.)

5. Complete a yoga teacher training course

This has been on my daydreaming list for some time, and I really want to make it happen sooner rather than later.

I’ve been practicing yoga since I was in high school (Spoiler: I just turned 28), but in the last 18-ish months, I’ve become really dedicated to practicing almost daily. It feels bloody great. But I want to learn more. I want to learn the deeper technicalities of proper form and mindset. Plus, going away for 2+ weeks to do nothing but practice and study yoga sounds like an absolute dream.

I’ve got my eye on a few retreats I’m considering, but haven’t done much research yet. Any insight or recommendations would be greatly appreciated.

Don’t put it off. Do what you want now—even if it means doing it alone.

If you don’t really love trying new things on your own, you’re not an outlier. Actually, Americans in their 20s miss out on a collective 26 experiences a year because they’re afraid of doing things alone. For 30-somethings, that number is more like 34 missed experiences per year. 

I find that terribly sad. There’s a lot I want to do in my life, and if I can’t find someone to go to a concert or a pottery studio with, then I’m going to go by myself.

You only live once. Don’t spend your time waiting for other people to show up for you when you’ve been there for yourself all along.

Recommended Reading:

• Ultimate Guide to Self-Care: 100 Self-Care Ideas
• Are You Afraid of Being Alone? Here’s why you don’t have to be.
• 13 Habits to Start Now in Your 20s (or Whenever) for Long-Term Physical & Mental Wellbeing
• Accepting Your Fate (Finding Acceptance Alone)
• Alone at Night in Paris—Where to Take Yourself on a Solo Date

The post 5 New Things I Want to Do Alone This Year appeared first on A Merry Loner.

5 steps to harness your fear of going to weddings alone (and look hot while doing it)

“Okay, so the plan is to just summon a boyfriend out of thin air before I get another wedding invitation…”

Famous last words, uttered by none other than yours truly. As a member of a large family, I have been attending weddings practically every year since I was in utero. (Seriously.) But it wasn’t until after college that a slight feeling of dread began to settle in my gut every time those beautiful, embossed wedding invitations arrived in the mail. Of course, it wasn’t the prospect of marital bliss that sickened me—nor the alarmingly generous use of postage stamps required for such heavy envelopes… 

The source of anxiety? I’m pretty frickin’ single. And the invitations were for me and me alone.

Related Posts:

• Accepting Your Fate (Finding Acceptance Alone)
• Are You Afraid of Being Alone? Here’s why you don’t have to be.
• “Life Is Sad and Then You Die.” Why this is the motto that will bring you peace.

Don’t let yourself miss out on a fun experience because of the fear of flying solo 

Weddings, after all, are testaments to irreplaceable relationships: a lifelong commitment between the couple; the arms-wide-open welcoming of new family members; the reunion of long separated friends, etc. So it can feel quite awkward come cocktail hour when I don’t know a soul beyond the bride and groom. It doesn’t help if the groom’s relatives are lightly shoving me out of the way for their massive cousin group photo. (Why, yes, I’d love to be your unofficial photographer, Brittany.)

I’ve had friends tell me point-blank that they’d be too nervous to attend a wedding alone. But I decided a long time ago that I never want to hold myself back from experiencing something wonderful just because of fear. 

Instead, I’ve thrown myself headfirst into figuring out how to have the loveliest time when going to all these damn weddings gloriously solo. Here’s how you can, too.

1. Start the experience with gratitude

This is important to note: Weddings can get extremely expensive (believe me, I know—at one point, two of my roommates were planning their weddings at the same time and it almost cost me my sanity). 

If you’ve made the cut as a guest, feel the love! I have many friendships I cherish deeply—new and old—and being invited to witness those friends tie the knot is no small thing. There’s always a bit of warmth in my chest knowing that someone important to me has found their person.

Luxuriate in the love you have for your friends, and know that that love is clearly reciprocated.

2. Take those extra steps to boost your confidence

I adore any excuse to dress up, so perhaps I find too much joy in pulling together a dress, jewelry, shoes, and makeup that fit the occasion. 

If you’re a little vain like me, I say, lean into it! If not, think of it as self-care. Maybe this is a great excuse to get your nails done, book a visit to your barber or hairstylist, or simply slip into your favorite, dress-code-appropriate piece of clothing. As an extra step, I like to make a custom, little pump-up playlist (thank you, Chappell), so I can go into the wedding with my head held high. 

Confidence can look different for everyone, so identify what works for you. Just please, for the love of God, don’t commit any wedding-attire faux pas, otherwise you may have to suffer not only the general indignity but also dagger-eyes from the mother of the bride.

3. Remind yourself you’re not actually alone

While it may feel like everyone is watching you drop crumbs all over the table while devouring your allotted slice of wedding cake all alone at the reception, in actuality, the world does not revolve around you. (Listen, I’m still trying to grasp this fact, too.) 

Odds are, you aren’t the only person at the wedding by yourself… But you can guarantee that you have 100% more fun than anyone else, date or no date. One trick is to look up a trusty Reddit thread or an article about how other people approach attending weddings solo. This can serve as a grounding reminder that the fears—and the joy—evoked by going to weddings alone are universally experienced. And just like those other folks across the Internet, you’re going to be alright. 

4. Be present

In my humble opinion, there are few occasions more aesthetically pleasing than a wedding. Think about it: The bride and groom have spent countless hours considering the venue, the attire, the flowers, the table settings, and every other detail. When I’m at a wedding alone, I like to soak up the atmosphere of romance with no distractions. 

For me, it might be watching the sunset go down over the ocean during cocktail hour, glass of rosé in hand. Or closing my eyes in bliss while savoring a bite of exquisitely roasted chicken. Just looking around and seeing the tears stream down the faces of a bunch of surprisingly emotionally-vulnerable fraternity brothers during the toasts can be a truly heartwarming experience. 

Being present also means that rather than taking my phone out each time I feel a bit awkward, I make a point to chat with the other people at my table during dinner. I’ve made some pretty fun connections doing this (or just heard things so unhinged that it’s prime fodder for a gossip session with the bride at a later date…).

5. Know your limits

At some point, no matter how fun it is, going solo can begin to weigh on one’s well-dressed shoulders. I’ll be the first to say that there’s no need to stay for the entire reception. 

Figure out the key moments you’d like to stay for, make sure to hug the bride and groom, and if there’s an opportunity to get on the dance floor, totally do it! But don’t feel like you need to stay until the very end (unless that’s your vibe). 

I usually want to stay long enough for the cake-cutting or bouquet toss, whatever comes last. Then I take a sip of water, gather my things, and disappear mysteriously into the night, intent on cozily winding down at home. 

Choosing love over fear

Whatever your thoughts on the suspiciously archaic societal expectations (or the tempting tax benefits) of getting married, it’s kind of a big deal. This precious milestone for your friends is one worth witnessing. 

If you’re single and getting cold feet (to borrow the colloquialism) about attending a wedding solo, I encourage you to not let fear win. Instead, put on your Sunday best, crank that pump-up playlist in the car, and walk into the next wedding like the single ray of glorious sunshine you are.

Recommended Reading:

• Ultimate Guide to Self-Care: 100 Self-Care Ideas
• Did This French Writer Just Reveal the Secret to Happiness?
• How Heather’s Lonely Year at Uni Became the Springboard to Her Greatest Adventures
• Alone at Night in Paris—Where to Take Yourself on a Solo Date
• How to Stop Wanting Things

Abigail Clarkin is a writer from Providence, Rhode Island. She currently works as a
social media manager in support of small businesses in Providence. When she isn’t
chronically online, find her running, reading, or giving her unbridled opinion on whatever
cocktail is in front of her. Check out her work at abigailjclarkin.com.

The post How to Get Over Yourself and Go to that Damn Wedding, Gloriously Solo appeared first on A Merry Loner.

Toeing the line between introversion and extroversion.

I love spending time alone. I need it. If I go too long without having some dedicated alone time with my thoughts, I notice I tend to get a little grouchy. (My family probably notices it, too.) 

The same goes for reading time. Ideally, I read every single day, but sometimes life gets in the way. Still, if about three days pass without me getting a little sit-and-stare¹ time to block out the world and do some deep-thinking, I become restless, irritable, and frustrated. 

But the same goes in the other direction, too. 

Like most people, if I spend too much time stuck in my own head (or my own apartment (WFH people get it)), then I’ll probably go a little nuts. And by a little nuts, I mean: get depressed. 

Related Posts:

• In Defense of Laughing Alone
• Accepting Your Fate (Finding Acceptance Alone)
• Are You Afraid of Being Alone? Here’s why you don’t have to be.

Too much of a good thing: We need alone time AND time to be social

For most people, we tend to do too much of one or the other—and it’s easy to get stuck in old habits. 

If you’re more introverted, that might mean letting several days pass without ever emerging from your shell long enough to actually see sunlight or meet a friend.

If you’re more extroverted, that might mean running on a constant treadmill of social activity and forgetting to take a moment to do the scary thing—that is, be totally alone with your thoughts.

Which one are you? 

How to find the balance between solitude and a social life

It really doesn’t matter if you’re more introverted or extroverted. The important thing is finding a healthy balance between the two. 

That’s what Loner Living is all about: balancing solitude and a social life so you can be at peace whether you’re in a room full of people or all alone.

With no authority, professional training, or business telling other people what to do, these are my two cents on how to balance solitude and a social life so you can get the best of both worlds:

For introverts: 3 easy ways to socialize without giving up your alone time

If too many social engagements feels like a big drain on your social battery, go easy on yourself. You don’t have to rage at a late-night party to get your weekly social fix. Try this instead:

​1. Schedule a weekly friend date

Having a pre-scheduled, recurring friend date on the books is the perfect happy medium between getting out of the house and staying cozy in your shell.

I used to do this with friends back when I was living in Providence, RI. Every Monday, without any text exchanges or other planning, I met with the same motley crew at a local neighborhood bar. (Yes, it was very Cheers-y.) Often, it ended up being my favorite part of the week.

I think part of the magic was that this recurring meet-up scratched both my introvert and my extrovert itches. It got me out of the house on a weeknight to mix and mingle with new faces. But because it was the same place and time every week and there were always a few mainstay drinking buddies, it didn’t drain my social battery the same way going to a regular party would.

It was almost like a non-event—the perfect social dopamine hit for a sometimes introvert.

2. Invite a friend for a low-pressure outing, like a museum visit or a yoga class

Sure, hosting a friend for an evening of Netflix and junk food is definitely low energy while still (technically) checking the box of socializing. But you know what’s equally non-verbal but a little more stimulating (and will actually get you out of the house)?

• Going to a museum with a friend
• Meeting a friend at the gym or for a yoga class
• Getting together at the park for a bookworm’s reading party
• Even just going for a walk together

These activities are great options for introverts because they get you socializing and mingling in public spaces. But because you’re largely focused on the activity at hand (e.g., staring at art, yoga-ing, putting one foot in front of the other), it’s a lot less taxing on your delicate social battery.

3. Go to the cinema with someone

I know, movie theaters are supposed to be dying, right? Though I’m not sure if we should blame a) the pandemic; b) everything turning to streaming; c) the abysmal churn of remakes and sequels Hollywood is trying to force-feed us all; or d) all of the above.

Nonetheless, I’ve recently started going to the cinema more often, and you know what—the 2000s were right. It’s fun!

Like a lot of people, I already work from home and stare at my computer screen all day. So I’m looking for more leisure activities that, you know, don’t involve more sitting at home and staring at my computer screen. Instead, I want to:

• put on a cute pair of shoes
• browse the very limited options of what’s playing at the random hour I show up at the theater and, thus, pick something I might not otherwise have chosen
• leisurely stroll home in the cool, night air talking about the flick with my fellow moviegoer

It’s just as low effort as watching TV at home, but a helluva lot more romantic.

For extroverts: 3 ways to embrace alone time without giving up your social life

Looking at you, dear people who are allergic to silence and anxious about doing basic errands by yourself. Buckle up—you can do this:

1. Plan a solo night in—and turn off all your devices

Emphasis on “turn off all your devices.”

Even if your physical body is home alone for the evening, you and I both know it’s far too easy to distract your mind with the goings-on of the outside world. I’m not saying you need to adopt the recluse life, but taking a bit of time away from all the short-form videos, he-said-she-said, and other incessant, toxic stimulation would do pretty much all of us a world of good.

Whether you pledge to do it weekly, monthly, or you’re just trying it out for the first time, dedicate a solo night in with just you and yourself. You can:

• Read a book, analog-style. (These are some of my favorite easy-read classics for people dipping their toes into classic literature.)
• Feel all the feels and go ham in a new notebook with a couple of journal prompts.
• Literally anything besides doom-scrolling or watching TV. For inspiration, bookmark this mega-guide of 100 self-care ideas, like having an at-home spa night, filling all your drawers with lavender sachets, or other frivolous things that make life more enjoyable.

2. Take yourself on a date

Spending time with yourself doesn’t mean you have to hole up at home and knit the night away (unless that’s your thing).

You can also spend quality time alone by taking yourself out on a date. For instance, you can:

• Go to brunch or a good, old-fashioned diner and stay far too long while experiencing the joy of reading a book from start to finish
• Get dressed up and take yourself to a cocktail bar and sip a dirty martini while languidly surveilling the scene
• Treat yourself to a three-course meal at your favorite or a new-to-you fancy restaurant

And don’t forget to buy yourself fresh flowers. Because, why not?

3. Sign up for a class to learn something new

You want to learn watercolor painting, but none of your friends are into it.

So what? Find a class. Sign yourself up. And mark it on the calendar as your weekly solo date. In fact, there’s a pottery atelier across the street from my new apartment, and this is one of my plans for the new year.

If getting arts and crafts-y isn’t your thing, you’re not off the hook, yet. The list of new things to learn is literally endless. You can take a class in anything that interests you, like:

• Cooking
• Dance
• Music
• Writing
• Photography
• Gardening

I’ll stop there, but you get the idea. This is one of the founding principles of Loner Living: If there’s something you want to do, go out and do it. Don’t wait because you’re afraid of doing it alone.

Loner Living—where introverts and extroverts meet

Like most things in life, it’s possible to have too much of a good thing.

Too much alone time can lead to boredom (at best) and depression (at worst). But living life in the extrovert lane 24/7 isn’t necessarily great for the mind, either. Without time to slow down and focus on a little self-reflection and self-awareness, how can you ever look inward, critique your actions, and try to work on becoming a better person?

To be our best selves, we need a mix of both. Whether you’re more of an introvert or an extrovert, it’s always good to push yourself a little outside of your comfort zone. That’s where the growth happens.

Recommended Reading:

• How Heather’s Lonely Year at Uni Became the Springboard to Her Greatest Adventures
• The Problem with Shopping on Amazon Prime
• How to Stop Wanting Things
• Best Tea for Non Tea Drinkers | How to Start Drinking Tea
• 13 Habits to Start Now in Your 20s (or Whenever) for Long-Term Physical & Mental Wellbeing

1. Shout-out to my brother’s friend for coining this gem of a phrase: “sit-and-stare time.” ↩︎

The post How to Balance Solitude and a Social Life: A Dual Guide for Introverts & Extroverts appeared first on A Merry Loner.

It’s not easy to figure out how to stop wanting things when the Internet has you in a chokehold.

“Everyone lives by selling something,” said Robert Louis Stevenson, whom Wikipedia calls “a Scottish novelist, essayist, poet and travel writer.”

But did Stevenson (who died in 1894, by the way) know that the Instagram girlies and the Twitter bros would be selling their asses and their biceps (excuse me—their green juices and their protein shakes) from morning ‘til night with no respite in sight?

I’m going to guess probably not.

All hypocritical finger-pointing aside (I, too, am a flawed beast), the dude had a point … and I agree with him. I don’t believe there’s anything wrong with trying to make a sale. After all, we’re all just trying to make a living without selling (too much of) our souls to the mega-corporation-algorithm-overlords we’ve let fester and swell for the past 50-odd years. (Heck, I’m also selling something by way of writing services. ✌️)

But even though I’d like to scream from the rooftops how fed up I am with the advertising, the marketing, and the pushing, jamming, and ramming of materialism down our throats, that would be complete and utter whinging.

Because they can sell, sell, sell as much as they want—but I’m the one responsible for whether or not I decide to buy.

Related Posts:

• Why Are We All So Afraid of Being Alone?
• How Heather’s Lonely Year at Uni Became the Springboard to Her Greatest Adventures
• Alone at Night in Paris—Where to Take Yourself on a Solo Date

So a couple of years ago, I called my own BS and set out to figure out how to stop wanting things.

I don’t think I’m a particularly materialistic person, but I like a new lipstick as much as the next gal, and anyone who knows me knows I only buy expensive (usually leather) shoes because they put a spring in your step (and last!) like no other.

I used to:

• read fashion magazines during high school physics class
• watch Fashion Police (RIP Joan Rivers) with my mom and wonder what it’s like to wear couture (I believe my exact words were: “I would never want to be famous, but my only regret is that I’ll probably never get to wear haute couture…”)
• and stare longingly at buttery leather shoes from Cole Haan and sniff Dooney & Bourke leather handbags like they were coke (no, just me?) window-shop with my sister

And then somewhere along the line … I just stopped. I don’t know why.

I traded InStyle for The Economist, gave up TV almost cold turkey (except for sci-fi because I’m a loser), and told my sister I didn’t want to go to the store anymore. I still treat myself to a new lipstick about once a year (and you’ll pry my leather and/or suede high heels from my cold, dead hands), but I no longer give a shit about acquiring new ones until those in my closet become so old that the cobbler refuses to keep re-heeling them. (Yeah, he really did play me like that.)

So what happened? How did I learn how to stop wanting things?

In the end, learning how to stop wanting things was pretty simple.

I just stopped looking.

Looking at Instagram. Looking at TV. Looking at magazines.

And TBH, it’s a lot easier said than done. Just yesterday I was visually assaulted as I waited patiently like a Good Samaritan for the tram.

BOOM! Enormous advertisement for Volkswagen slithering around the side of every tram car when we could have just had nice, clear windows (but this is why we can’t have nice things).

BOOM! Mega poster with a pair of Photoshopped t*ts that’s pretending to sell women’s underwear when it’s really selling eating disorders, low self-esteem, and the normalization of hyper-sexualization to teenage girls who think they need to look like that to be worth something to someone.

Boom.

Even when you’re trying to live in your hand-me-down-clothing, using-an-old-jam-jar-instead-of-a-water-bottle life, the presence of advertisements is downright suffocating.

But once you cut ads out of your life off, they just don’t work anymore.

It’s like upgrading to Spotify and then suddenly going back to free Pandora radio (and 2010 where it belongs). You think, “What the f*** was I doing back then?”

What was I doing when I felt it necessary to scroll through Instagram because I had to wait in the grocery line for 10 minutes and simply needed to fill that time with stimulation?

What was I doing when I turned on the TV—not because there was something I wanted to watch but just to “see what was on”?

Things that had once seemed so commonplace to me and just a natural part of the fabric of these modern lives we’ve built for ourselves became uninteresting, even buffoonish.

It’s like feeling dead inside in the best possible way.

Now when someone I know sends me a TikTok video with some cool gadget that apparently solves the very niche problem of cutting mangos that I didn’t realize existed … I feel nothing. (Well, after I feel disbelief that this person I know and respect is actually spending their time on TikTok, which I think we can all agree is the very worst of all the social media platforms. But you do you, friend. (Do I sound judgmental?))

Now when another person I know tells me about the new clothes they just ordered online and how they really needed this one specific dress because it has this one specific feature that the others in their closet don’t precisely fulfill (and either way, it’s okay because the dress only cost $40 and they just got it to top up their cart to get free shipping) … I feel nothing.

I feel nothing, whereas before I might have felt curiosity to

• check out that store …
• and then see something I like …
• and then ponder buying it …
• and then ask myself if I need it …
• and then know I don’t need it but come up with some very specific reason as to why I might need it sometime in the future and had better order it now while I can still take advantage of the sale that’s going on.

I feel nothing, and it feels great.

Don’t get me wrong—I haven’t gone full-on Amish.

Just yesterday I spent an embarrassing amount of money on plant oils because I, too, want to have beautiful, blemish-free skin that twenty years from now will have people saying, “She’s in her forties? No way!” because I sometimes delude myself into thinking that this is 1) possible and/or 2) even important.

Except this time I bought these things (it’s rosehip oil and tamanu oil, by the way) after obsessively researching the anti-inflammatory properties of rosehip and other plant oils, leaving it in my shopping cart for weeks on end because I hate shopping online, and inevitably feeling guilty for 10 minutes after hitting CONFIRM ORDER.

Clearly, this is not a model way of living, and I am in no way positioning myself as someone who should be listened to about … pretty much anything.

BUT

I am happy that this purchase was the result of my own contemplations and musings, careful consideration, and not because I saw it on Instagram and was able to buy it without any reflection within 30 seconds because iSn’T iT gReAt ThAt InStAgRaM hAs MaDe It So EaSy To bUy ThInGs OnLiNe?

Let me be clear from way up here on my soap box: This is not an attempt to shame you for buying things.

I buy things, too. It’s fun!

But this is one woman shouting into the abyss that even though advertisements are everywhere and consumerism has us all in a chokehold and there is 24/7 pressure to BUYBUYBUY, it is up to each of us individually to stop playing into the game.

If you want to buy fewer things, don’t give yourself a budget. Don’t try to resist temptation.

Just stop looking. That’s how you kill the desire. Because in my experience, once you go to look again, it all becomes so painfully uninteresting.

How to stop wanting things? It’s actually quite simple

And no, it’s not the one about life being sad and then we all die (though that’s another catchphrase I love to share with my friends).

It goes a little something like this:

If you stop looking at things (i.e., excessive social media, TV, emails, etc.), then you won’t have the urge to buy (as many) things.

… Because the less you see, the less you desire.

… The less you see other people’s lives (and inevitably romanticize them), the less you feel like you’re missing something in your own.

… The less you imagine that if you just had this one thing, then everything else in your life would magically fall into place.

And the more you realize that you can be happy on your own, without all that extra stuff.

That’s how you stop wanting things.

Recommended Reading:

• Is This the Secret to Happiness?
• Ultimate Guide to Self-Care: 100 Self-Care Ideas
• 20 Journal Prompts for Anger | How Anger Writing Prompts Can Help You Work Through Your Feelings
• 13 Habits to Start Now in Your 20s (or Whenever) for Long-Term Physical & Mental Wellbeing

The post How to Stop Wanting Things appeared first on A Merry Loner.

This is my motto, and it should be yours, too: “Life is sad and then you die.”

WTF, right?

Have we stumbled back to Tumblr and all its side bangs, smudged eyeliner, and adolescent woes of 2012?

Not quite.

Related Posts:

• Accepting Your Fate (Finding Acceptance Alone)
• Is This the Secret to Happiness?
• Why Are We All So Afraid of Being Alone?

We’re far closer to thirty than we or our not-so-subtle gray hairs would like to admit with our feet firmly planted on the ground and our heads grazing but no longer lost high up in the clouds. Say it with me:

“Life is sad and then you die.” This is the motto that will bring you peace.

(And I’m an optimist! If you can believe it.)

Hear me out:

Life is full of sadness. People die. People get sick and suffer for years on end with no explanation given by any God or gods in response to loved ones’ pleas. People are mean. They judge you, spite you, ignore you, insult you. Some will even try to buy you. Others will sell you things and pretend they’re saving you. Worst of all, it often feels like it’s the most rotten people who are born beautiful and rich because life is just as unfair as it is sad.

This can all be expected. In the wise words of Trailer Park Boys’s fictitious Ray, “That’s the way she goes”:

• the mean girl at school who can do whatever she wants because people have decided she’s pretty
• the mean boy at school who’s decided he can do whatever he wants because he’s tall
• the slimy boss who takes credit for your work
• the slimy algorithms that now dictate your work

… and so it goes.

Yes, these things are sad. But they will continue to happen, nonetheless. And you—no matter how unique and interesting and rarefied you are in so many little, obscure ways—are not special for experiencing these unhappy happenstances.

Sad things happen to all of us. And then we (eventually) die.

The sooner you realize this, the sooner you can get on living.

The faster you’ll realize you should appreciate your precious time here since we’re all walking around with invisible hourglasses trickling down.

And the easier it’ll be to release your anger when one of the Sad Things happens to you or a loved one (however justified that anger may be).

Because that’s the way life is: It’s sad. And then we die.

But acknowledging this sadness and recognizing its ubiquitousness is not to accept the absence of happiness.

Life is very happy, and we see demonstrations of its wonders every day, from grand gestures to small acts of kindness. A wise man knows, however, that the greatest moment of the greatest happiness of all can never mark the End of the Sad Things, for there will always be more Sad Things.

A wise man also knows how to be happy in spite of the never-ending torrent of Sad Things.

• He knows to keep replanting flowers in his garden even though the neighborhood kids keep stealing them (because girls will be girls)¹.
• He knows some people will always make more money than him no matter how hard he works—but that doesn’t mean his life has to be any less worth living.
• He knows that even if he dresses the way you’re supposed to dress and tells the jokes you’re supposed to tell that there will always be people who don’t like him.

Maybe for some years he has a big social circle with lots of friends to pat him on the back and keep his spirits buoyed one Friday night after the next.

… And then maybe for some months people are busy working or traveling or being in love or otherwise living their lives outside of this person who is but one among many.

This may make him feel sad and alone for a moment, until he thinks to himself: “This is just one of those Sad Things. But that’s alright. There’s almost certainly a merry moment coming around the corner.”

When you dwell on the Sad Things, you feel sad. But when you accept that the Sad Things will always be there, then you can be free of them and you no longer have to live your life swinging from the emotional pendulum of happenstances.

Life IS sad and then we die. But don’t dwell on the Sad Things so much that you can’t notice the merry moments among them.

I’ve told a number of friends my “Life is sad and then you die” motto—some over ice cream cones in sun-filled parks and others over whiskey stones in dimly-lit bars.

It usually takes them a couple of listens to come around. But after they’ve laughed in my face and/or rolled their eyes at me, they start to realize I’m not being dramatic (or crafting what would have been a great AIM away message).

I’m completely serious and have chosen this to be the hill I die on (no pun intended):

1. Life is sad and then you die.
2. Once you learn to be happy on your own, you can do anything.

Because the only thing holding you back from creating happiness is you wishing your life could be different.

Just be happy. Now.

Recommended Reading:

• How Heather’s Lonely Year at Uni Became the Springboard to Her Greatest Adventures
• Alone at Night in Paris—Where to Take Yourself on a Solo Date
• 20 Journal Prompts for Anger | How Anger Writing Prompts Can Help You Work Through Your Feelings
• 13 Habits to Start Now in Your 20s (or Whenever) for Long-Term Physical & Mental Wellbeing

1. Because no one ever says “girls will be girls” to justify our childhood wrong-doings. (This is a true story. Sorry to those people whose flowers my best friend and I plucked on our walks around the neighborhood.) ↩︎

The post “Life Is Sad and Then You Die.” Why this is the motto that will bring you peace. appeared first on A Merry Loner.

There’s no need to fear. In fact, I think it’s time to change what it means to be a “loner.”

When was the last time you took yourself out to dinner? Or went on a weekend getaway by yourself? Or just went to the movies alone? (OK, I know nobody goes to the movies anymore … )

If so (or if not), would you consider yourself a loner? And is that a good thing?

Related Posts:

• Accepting Your Fate (Finding Acceptance Alone)
• How Heather’s Lonely Year at Uni Became the Springboard to Her Greatest Adventures
• Alone at Night in Paris—Where to Take Yourself on a Solo Date

Being a loner gets a bad rap.

Quite unfairly, in my opinion.

When you Google the word “loner,” the first thing that comes up is the Oxford English Dictionary, which says a loner is “a person who avoids company and prefers to be alone.”

Next, WebMD says pretty much the same thing: “Being a loner means that you would prefer to be by yourself rather than with others.”

At least Wikipedia (my love) gives the term “loner” a bit more nuance: “a person who does not seek out, actively avoids, or fails to maintain interaction with other people.”

All in all, the Internet seems to agree that being a loner is a bad thing—that it means you’re some kind of anti-social freak who hates being around people.

I strongly disagree. The word “loner” shouldn’t have a negative connotation.

Frankly, I’m really sick of everyone thinking being alone is just about the worst possible thing that could happen to you.

Think about it:

• Being a loner.
• Being lonely.
• Being on your own.

They don’t have good connotations, do they?

Don’t get me wrong: I’m in no way an advocate for social isolation.

For one, I like people. I love a good party. I love spending time doing nothing with my friends. And to be honest, I know that I’m usually a little verbose.

Plus, it’s clear that spending too much time alone is bad for us—even bad for our health.

This 2013 study “revealed that social isolation predicted mortality for both genders, as did smoking and high blood pressure,” concluding that “the strength of social isolation as a predictor of mortality is similar to that of well-documented clinical risk factors.” [Source: PubMed Central]

The dangers of social isolation are such a problem that “in 2018, the U.K. appointed a minister for loneliness and Loneliness Awareness Week was introduced to encourage people to ‘fill their lives with new friends and experiences.’” [Source: University of California San Francisco]

ICYMI: Both of these studies were conducted BEFORE the COVID-19 pandemic, when the world started paying a lot of attention to the risks of isolation and loneliness. Since then, things have obviously gotten a lot worse:

• A 2021 survey of 2,496 U.S. adults determined that more than half (58%) of U.S. adults are considered lonely. [Source: The Cigna Group]
• Even the Surgeon General is sounding the alarm, releasing a report in May 2023 to “[call] attention to the public health crisis of loneliness, isolation, and lack of connection in our country [the U.S.]” [Source: U.S. Department of Health and Human Services]

So, yeah. Social isolation is definitely a bad thing.

But you know what’s also a problem? Being too afraid to ever do anything by yourself.

You know what I mean:

• That friend who’s never been single for more than 2 months since they were in high school
• That family member who won’t get on a plane by themselves
• That co-worker who won’t take a break and eat lunch in the company kitchen by themselves

Of course, to each his own. I’m not trying to single anyone out or judge them.

What if being a loner is the secret key to finding happiness?

I’ve always been a bit of a loner. (And no, it’s not because I’m an anti-social freak who hates being around people. Thanks for asking, though.)

Instead, there are two main reasons why I’m a loner:

1. I genuinely enjoy doing things on my own.
2. I don’t feel uncomfortable being by myself.

Let me explain.

Back in the day, when I lived in an apartment in Providence, Rhode Island with three roommates, one of my favorite parts of the week was taking myself to the local pub around the corner with a couple of books and perhaps my journal where I would sit, read, daydream, and ponder the night away with just me, a couple of pints, and a cheeseburger.

(That and Sunday morning, when I did more or less the same thing but diner-style with a newspaper and/or The Economist, a veggie omelet, and some burnt coffee.)

To me, solo time is a luxurious reprieve from the chaotic world. So why do so many people think it’s weird?

So many times, I would

• walk into a restaurant and ask for a table for one
• travel for the weekend by myself
• show up at a party without a date or a friend

…there would be a prolonged silence, and then:

• “Good for you.”
• “Wow, that’s so brave.”
• “I could never do that.”

Huh?

I just don’t get it. What is so scary about being alone? What is so horrifying about the very thought of doing something by yourself? And (even more outrageous) being comfortable and at ease while doing it?

Maybe this is how you feel.

Maybe you’re afraid of being seen as a loner because that also means being a misfit, an outcast, and an anti-social weirdo. (And that’s certainly the case if you listen to what the Oxford English Dictionary and WebMD have to say.)

But I think there’s another way.

A Merry Loner’s Manifesto

This is my mission: to change the idea of what it means to be a loner—from misfit outcast to calm, contented, confident individual.

I call it being A Merry Loner. Because once you learn how to be merry on your own, then you can do anything.

Recommended Reading:

• Ultimate Guide to Self-Care: 100 Self-Care Ideas
• Did This French Guy Just Tell Us The Secret to Happiness?
• 13 Habits to Start Now in Your 20s (or Whenever) for Long-Term Physical & Mental Wellbeing

The post Are You Afraid of Being Alone? Here’s why you don’t have to be. appeared first on A Merry Loner.