Alone but not Lonely

The finely tuned art of living by yourself

I never expected to be living alone. I grew up in a house with two younger sisters, spent the first half of my twenties in a rotation of share houses with a minimum of three housemates, and then lived with my husband Al for 2.5 years. I thought I was too extraverted and social to survive rattling about in an apartment by myself. When I found myself facing down my new reality I was intimidated. How much food do you make for one person? Would I end up talking to myself? (Um, yes.) How would I fill all that TIME?

In my first foggy weeks in my new solo life, sodden with grief and suddenly liberated from the all consuming care of my sick husband, I didn’t quite know what to do with myself. There was (honestly still is) a lot of time on the couch on Instagram. But over the course of almost 3 years now, I’ve built a new rhythm and routine. Now I’m not so sure how I could go back. I love coming home to my bright little flat, with the sun pouring in the windows in the late afternoon. Everythin…