HOW I LEARNED TO LOVE BEING ALONE
It is the 4th anniversary of FWD JOY – and what a journey (and a joy!) it has been. When I started this newsletter, I didn’t really have any idea where it would lead me or how far it would reach. I just knew that I had stories that felt important to share. I had no clue that it would bring me such profound healing and set me free from some of my deepest insecurities. I also never imagined that so many people would see themselves in my stories. That’s perhaps the greatest gift.
I think it’s so easy to feel alone in our human journey, and when we’re struggling, we often feel like we’re the only ones to have ever gone through a particular struggle. More often than not, that’s not entirely the case. It’s just that we rarely find space to talk about what we go through without judgment. If we talk about the good stuff, someone might think we’re bragging or full of ourselves. If we talk about the bad, we’re a burden or bringing bad vibes, and if we’re talking about the ugly stuff that happens in life, we fear alienation. FWD JOY is meant to be a safe space for all of it.
I’m grateful for this community that I’ve built here. I love when people come up to me on the street and tell me they’ve read this newsletter or bring my newsletters to therapy. Meeting and connecting with you all back in the Geneva app lockdown days or at my meetups in London and New York always make me feel like I’ve found my people. I’m in awe of the brilliant and inspiring community that spawned from this. I will always appreciate you letting me take up this space in your inbox.
In honor of this milestone, I wanted to write about something this newsletter taught me over the last four years: how to be alone. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve always enjoyed time alone. It’s how I recharge from a job that requires me to be very social and “on” all the time —but for so long, I also feared that would be my permanent state, that I was destined to be alone forever, and what a terrible life sentence that would be. But things have shifted quite radically for me over these last four years. As I focused more on building a life that I loved and felt purposeful, the fear of what it meant to be alone melted away.
Most importantly, I learned how to show up for myself when it matters. This is not about feeling like I don’t need anyone because we’re human and wired for connection— it’s about knowing that I don’t need to look for happiness outside of myself and that whatever I think I’m going to get from a romantic partner that's gonna “save” me or make me feel worthy of love is probably something I need to give to myself. So, here are 15 ways I learned to love being alone.
I stay curious about my internal world: Through stillness, meditation, and journaling, I continuously explore why I think the way I do or see the world the way I do. Journaling has been such a positive practice for understanding what’s happening inside my head, the good and the bad. I think very deeply about life (if you haven’t noticed). I’m an overthinker, I struggle with anxiety, and I have intrusive thoughts. Journaling can be a balm to all of that, and it helps regulate emotions, cultivate self-awareness, and bring clarity to my thoughts. Lately, I’ve used my old journal entries to help me process past events with my therapist—and I love that I can use these pages to reflect on my progress and as a marker for my growth.
I do things I want to do with a partner by myself: One of the biggest things I had to decide for myself was to stop waiting for someone else to do the things I wanted to do. Of course, trips to the South of France might not feel as romantic solo, but I don’t want to wait on someone else to enjoy MY life and the experiences I desire. Does it sometimes feel strange to be alone on trips and think it would be so much better with someone else? Of course, but I push through those thoughts to enjoy my life on my terms. Plus, you never know when you might meet a sexy stranger along the way. I can honestly say that my trip to the South of France with my ex-boyfriend last year, after several solo trips there, was just as sweet—especially knowing I had once visited those same spots while longing to be there with someone. It’s a reminder that whether it’s solo travel, a museum visit, or dining out alone, we can’t wait for the one or even our friends to live the life we want to live.
I try to be my own best friend: I don’t talk to myself negatively, and I never really have by nature, but of course, there are times when I am hard on myself. Over the years, I had to learn to accept and appreciate my sensitivity because, growing up, my family made me feel like it was my worst trait. I also had little control over my big emotions. With time and practice in self-regulation, I’ve learned not to let my emotions overwhelm me and appreciate the power of my vulnerability, which led me to where I am today. Of course, we’ll always be our own harshest critics. I’m not immune to that—and I love self-compassion meditations for those moments where I need a bit more grace, but I don’t live in that headspace, and I never want to be my own worst enemy.
I move for my mind: I've never been fond of exercise. I still don’t love it now—but reframing it as something to improve my mental health made a big difference for me. When I am going through it, going outside for a walk is usually one of the first things I do. It’s incredible how a little fresh air and movement can help clear your mind. Now, yoga has also been a positive way to connect with my body. It also forces me to stay off my phone (unlike walking) and stay present. Of course, this also makes me feel good about my body, so there’s a whole halo effect.
I create a space I can feel good in: I haven’t always been conscious of what my living space looks and feels like, but I made more effort when I started living by myself at 30. I was also mindful of this when I returned to my parent's house during the pandemic. I want my space to feel calm and *mostly* uncluttered. I invest in nice bedding. I want things around me that are aesthetically pleasing, and I’ve found that to be increasingly important to me as I get older.
I desire myself in the way that I want to be desired: This was a conscious re-wiring of my brain in my late twenties, sparked by how I care for myself when no one is looking. I found myself collecting sexy intimates to wear for potential suitors, but then I started to feel dumb about saving these pieces specifically to entice men. Do I actually enjoy this? (I did) And so, why do I only do it for them and not for my enjoyment? What if I took this approach to how I dressed and cared for myself every single day? Why do I put in extra effort just to please someone else but not for my own pleasure? So, I took note of all the things that I was doing when I prepped for dates or when I was seeing someone and made sure that I kept those same routines for myself. This is where my love of cute sleepwear was born. And as superficial as it may seem, it created a huge shift for me in how I take care of myself.
I romanticize the little things: I know romanticizing your life has become a popular content niche, but I see it as an essential part of the recipe for enjoying life. Even if you’re not a romantic, even if you don’t always see yourself as the “main character.” To me, it’s just about relishing in the things that make you happy. For me, that's my morning routine. I’m such a morning person, and I savor each moment, from my sleepwear to lounging in my bed and taking time to get out of bed (the perks of working for yourself). I love making breakfast. This is a time I will always carve out for myself, no matter what. It makes me happy to cook for myself and savor my cup of tea. I leave my phone in my bedroom, and I bring a book to the kitchen or play some music to enhance the experience. I love this time with myself.
I practice gratitude: From experience, I know gratitude is so much easier to feel when things are going WELL. But it’s just as essential to build the practice even when things aren’t going well. I always compare it to meditation. You don't feel much when you first start meditating, but if you stick to it, you eventually realize how powerful it is. Thinking about a few things you’re grateful for every day, writing them down (the five-minute journal is great), or just taking a moment each day to be present and be thankful for all you have begets more to be grateful for. Lately, it's been my favorite manifestation tool. Sure, it might feel pointless at first, but I assure you that when things aren’t going so great, it reminds you to stay focused on all the good that is still present in your life.
I pursue my passions: I will always be the first to say that your passion does *not* have to be your job, nor does your purpose. However, mine is connected to the work that I do, and as much as I loved my job as an editor, I feel fulfilled now in a way that I never did before. I feel an alignment in my life where everything flows because I get to focus on what truly makes me happy, makes me feel inspired, and connects me with like-minded people. That brings me immense joy. Every day, I am excited to wake up and share my life with people. Astrology is also a life-long passion of mine. I am increasingly dedicating more time to learning it. Your passion may be dance, pottery, making music, or activism. Whatever it is, especially if it’s not what you do for a living, make time for it.
I stay grounded in reality: Yes, being single, being alone, especially when you don’t want to be, sucks sometimes. It's important to acknowledge that very human feeling because, at the end of the day, we need connection—and we are in the midst of a loneliness epidemic. We hear endless horrifying dating stories and judgmental rhetoric about childless cat ladies, but the apps can feel like a wasteland—it’s no wonder that so many of us feel the pressure of not ending up alone. Is there a chance I could end up alone? Sure. But I also don’t have control over that—and that’s exactly why I focus on creating a life I truly love. While I can find contentment in being single, it doesn’t mean I don’t have those moments of doubt or loneliness. When they come, I don’t deny them. I acknowledge them, feel them, and then let them go.
I accept responsibility for my happiness: One of the most challenging aspects of being alone is that we always feel that someone else will make us happy. But as the cliche goes, happiness IS an inside job. We can’t rely on a significant other, social media, career success, or material possessions to bring us lasting happiness—because all those things can vanish instantly. The more I’ve found happiness in my own life I’m creating, the more it’s taken the pressure off of what I expect from someone else. As long as we depend on something external for our happiness, we will always give our power away. Real happiness comes from knowing we have the tools and the power to give that to ourselves.
I take pleasure into my own hands: Masturbation is self-care, and it’s great for our mental health. The dopamine and oxytocin you might seek from others can also be found with yourself. Sure, masturbation is never going to replace the attention and care you get from a significant other—but orgasms are good for our health, and I think it’s essential to be connected to our bodies in this way because it also enriches our experiences when we’re with a lover.
I recognize that difficult moments are an opportunity to learn: In my yoga class, my instructor often reminds us to notice where we feel stuck or when a pose feels more challenging on one side than the other. These moments offer valuable insights into our bodies. The same principle applies to life—when we feel stuck, face challenges, or get knocked down, it’s an opportunity to reflect. Sometimes, it’s a lesson in stillness and patience; other times, it’s a chance to better understand ourselves and our needs. When faced with uncertainty, I seek out podcasts, books, and advice that can help me navigate or sit with the discomfort. I choose to believe that the universe is conspiring in my favor. When things don’t go as planned, I take it as a signal to tune in, listen, and find ways to redirect my energy or use the insight to course-correct as I move forward.
I commit to living consciously: ultimately, this has been one of the most transformative aspects of my personal growth. I believe in a connection to something greater than myself and that each of us is here for a reason—to fulfill a purpose. Even if you don’t feel like you have a grand purpose, your purpose is simply to exist. You are inherently worthy just because you exist. Having a spiritual practice keeps me in tune with myself and my surroundings. It heightens my awareness and reminds me that my thoughts, decisions, and actions create ripples that extend far beyond me. I strive to align these with my goals, helping me take up space unapologetically and embrace my limitless potential. Reading books by Pema Chödrön, Thich Nhat Hanh, Deepak Chopra, Don Miguel Ruiz, and Eckhart Tolle has expanded my consciousness over the last nine years, helping me get comfortable with uncertainty and release the illusion of control over things I never truly controlled in the first place. You can find my favorite books by these authors here and here.
I trust in my future: I’ve always loved daydreaming about my future. I make lists and Pinterest boards filled with the things I envision for myself. But like any good manifester, I don’t get too attached to how it will all unfold. Time and again, life has shown me that when I know what I want and leave room for things to happen as they’re meant to, the results often exceed my expectations. My career is a prime example of this. As a teenager, I dreamed of working in magazines and imagined myself as a market editor. But my career turned out to be much more than I could have envisioned. I wore so many hats and got involved in aspects of the business I hadn’t even known existed when I first started dreaming. It’s wonderful to identify the “what,” but the “how” and “when” can often take unexpected forms. And that’s the beauty of life—if we knew exactly how everything would turn out, reaching our dreams wouldn’t feel nearly as sweet.
My contentment with myself will never be about rejecting partnership because that is what I have always desired for myself. But my deepest commitment is to the relationship I’m continuing to nurture with myself and to my own growth. When I began my self-healing journey at 30, it was largely driven by a desire to “fix” myself so I could be in a relationship. Over time, I’ve realized it was never about fixing myself—it was about learning to accept and love exactly who I am. It’s been about uncovering my most authentic self, and I can see how that has transformed my life, career, and all of my relationships for the better while raising the standards for what I expect a partner to bring into my life. If I could do it, so can you. Whether you’re single or in a relationship, you owe it to yourself to give yourself the love, care, and commitment you truly deserve.