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
M
More inspiration, tips, and stories on Loner Living?
Yes, please. Sign up for A Merry Loner’s newsletter to get the latest in your inbox.
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.
A Merry Loner’s 7-Day Do Things Alone Challenge
Ready to embrace Loner Living? Baby steps.
Sign up for our 7-day challenge to learn how to become more comfortable doing things by yourself.
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:
