04/19/2026
There’s a special kind of quiet that only shows up when you decide to keep yourself company.
My husband is off working on the camper up north, and I’ve spent the better part of the weekend deep in a cleaning spiral (you know the kind where one drawer turns into three rooms and suddenly it’s a lifestyle). So today, I decided my reward wouldn’t be more productivity—it would be lunch. Just me.
I took myself to one of my favorite cafés, claimed a sunny little table by the window (the kind no one ever wants to sit in but me), turned my face toward the light, and ordered exactly what I was craving. No compromises, no small talk, no “should we split something?” negotiations. Just a decadent lunch and the freedom to enjoy it at my own pace.
And here’s the thing—I didn’t feel lonely. Not even a little. I felt…content. Entertained, even. Because when you sit alone long enough, you start people-watching, and when you’re a writer at heart, that turns into quietly inventing entire backstories for everyone in the room. Highly recommend. 😄
My waitress today—a teenage girl—kept stopping by with her coworker, asking questions about my day, my work, what I ordered. I couldn’t quite tell if they felt sorry for me or were just curious about a woman confidently lunching solo, but I like to think maybe, just maybe, it made the idea feel a little less strange to them.
There’s something empowering about enjoying your own company. Not in a big, dramatic way, just in a quiet, “I like who I am when it’s just me” kind of way.
So tell me—are you team “I could never eat alone,” or team “don’t rush me, I’m savoring this”?
