My A lonely life The birthday crept up on me quietly. I did the paperwork to renew the lease months ago. I only remembered the date of my transfer because it happened on my friend’s birthday. His messaging evoked memories of the same job 12 months ago, surrounded by cardboard boxes and bits of flatpack. So I also celebrated it very quietly – by making a nice dinner, lighting a posh candle that was given to me years ago, and putting some fairy lights around my shelves. Oh, and by sending monthly meter readings to your utilities provider (no one else was doing this).
But I wanted to mark the occasion in some way for two reasons. The first is when you are the only woman in it. The thirtiesAs someone who isn’t a homeowner, parent, fiancé or wife, it can feel like you’re spending your life trying to make other people happy. Milestones and trying to squeeze himself into the spaces in between. And another reason? Being happily single is, I’ve come to believe, a bit of a skill, and it’s something I’m proud to have honed quite a bit over the past year.
Of course, this is also an honor. I’m only able to manage it financially because I moved back to Merseyside a few years ago, after that Sharing London flats With friends, housemates and various mice throughout my twenties; Having raised the money, I know I can’t afford to rent alone in a similarly priced space in Manchester, the next city to Liverpool (not that I’d want to for reasons of regional rivalry – Apollos, Andy Burnham).
There’s no getting around the fact that being single is brutally expensive. It’s not just the fact that most single beds are priced on the assumption that there are two of you: there are fixed costs for broadband, TV licences, standing charges on your energy bills. This is a single person discount on your council tax which knocks the payment down to just 25 per cent instead of halving it. The fact is, for all the chatter about how being yourself can be empowering, in practical terms, life is pretty much set up to navigate as a couple.
And because of this, it’s very easy to slip into the mode of thinking of positions as being alone as a kind of stopgap situation or a consolation prize, something that serves as a couple rather than a legitimate end in itself. (Is it? No wonder, when you’re constantly seen as lacking for not being one of the two?) From there, it’s even easier to fall into what I call “‘only.’ I have come to say “me’-ism”. Like: Should I bother making a proper meal if I’m going to be the only one eating it? Do I really need to turn on the heating if I’m the only one feeling cold? And should I go through the effort of hanging my prints and pictures properly when I’m the only one really looking at them, and I don’t even know how long I’ll be here?
The answer to all these questions is, of course, yes, and being so was probably my first step towards enjoying being single. Over the years of sharing my house, I had secretly collected screenshots of interiors I liked – nothing particularly avant garde, just tall bookcases covered in plants, gallery walls and Swedish furniture. Posters by designers – but imposing their own taste on communal rooms didn’t do it. Feel Good Plus, aesthetics were a secondary concern when we were spending so much time trying to get rid of the black mold on the walls.
Now, though, I can make my space look exactly how I want it to look. For me, that means lots of plants, lots of patterns and multiple color-coordinated bookshelves (yes, it’s a bit basic; no, I don’t care). i Arrangements in bluea memoir-slash-manifesto about life alone, author Amy suggests that “the creation of [her] having your own personal domestic space is a kind of romance”, which I think is a wonderful way of reimagining the process of making a home your own. She also notes that living alone meant she had “no . [her] The need to compromise transformed taste into a non-threateningly benign palette”, another sentiment I love. Of course, I went a bit over the top at first. Rearranging knick-knacks and dried flowers in vases. At my wits end, I told my friends I was considering training as an interior designer. I was definitely streaming a lot. Interior Design Masters At this time – when you live alone, you can watch whatever you want.
The irony of living alone is that no matter how much effort you put into making your home feel right, spending time outside of it is just as important. I started living a straight solo life working from home, which is a bit like joining an advanced dance class with no prior training and expecting you to miraculously move. will be able to manage – things are a bit off-putting, and maybe a bit silly, to start with. I soon learned that my work-life situation meant that I needed to be careful about planning my weeks to ensure I didn’t end up feeling overwhelmed, or on my own. Don’t get stuck in your head.
Being single has made me more conscious of the fact that my time is my own, to be filled with what I enjoy.
Structure is important, and so is fostering your own sense of community, whatever that looks like. When I first moved here, I was training for a half marathon (yes, another third clutch) which meant a lot of long solo runs; I was spending a lot of time with my thoughts and greatest hits for the company of Pet Shop Boys. Since then, I’ve found that group classes are much better for me, whether it’s welcoming pilates in a city center studio or a weights session at the women-only gym down the road, where you can chat between rounds. .
Basically, if socializing isn’t an incidental part of your day, you’re probably going to have to go out of your way to work it in (and ignore the crappy side of your brain that you (says that doing so is a vain and strenuous effort). Right now, I have more hobbies than I have since I was eight. I’ve started attending art classes again, having first put down the oil pastels when the invigilator announced the end of my GCSE practical exam, half a lifetime ago. I am part of two book clubs., Because my natural favorite activity, reading, isn’t exactly sociable. In a roundabout way, living alone has made me more conscious of the fact that my time is my own, to be filled with what I enjoy. And if I don’t make things up, including wrangling meter readings and utility bills, no one else will.
Doing so has given me the opportunity to meet many new people, including other loners. When you are constantly being told clearly or implicitly that your life does not conform to the expected pattern, it is important that you spend some of your time in such situations. This helps you check the voice in the back of your head that tells you you’re out of sorts. Lately, though, I have to admit that I’ve basically become very jealous of their pets. My family’s allergies mean a cat is out of the question, but my goal for 2025 is to adopt a dog.
When people learn that you live alone, the most common follow-up question is: But don’t you really get lonely? The honest answer is yes, a little, sometimes. But right now, the sense of freedom, independence and fulfillment that comes with working on your own terms is far greater. And to be honest, I’ve felt a lot more alone when I’ve been stuck in a horrible spare room house share, dreaming of an escape route and my own living room.