Rebranding Solo Dates: The Art of Community & Power of Free Time
An introduction to this space and what it's trying to be.
What do you think of when you hear “solo dates”? A friend recently shared that she thinks of solitude and that her solo time is often dedicated to exploring her creativity. After all, Virginia Woolf once said, “A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction.“ On less creative days, she reflected that her solo time is usually spent “rotting.”
Both depictions are probably accurate in all our lives and are necessary components of a good, sexy life. However, I find there’s a stereotype that time spent alone happens in isolation, away from community. And maybe it’s because the perception of singlehood as being lonely, though being alone and being lonely are two different things, has been a carefully orchestrated act of capitalism for a long time.
Depending on where in the world you are, you will notice that suddenly, the possibility of experiencing the joys of life becomes limited. When I visited my motherland, South Korea, last year, I learned that most restaurants in Seoul have stopped allowing solo diners or letting people take leftover food home. In the same vein, it’s a well-paid job in Japan to be someone’s rented company in a wide range of capacities — friend, boyfriend, parent-figure. etc (TikTok video “I rented a dad”). In the West, alone time is only valid if it’s productive, whether in the form of side hustles, wellness routines, or self-improvement activities.
On the latter example, many before me have written discourses about the colonisation of the concept ‘self-care.’ Once an act of resistance, it’s been repackaged as something to consume — a productivity tool, tied to outcomes like the so-called ‘glow-up’.
Caring for myself is not self-indulgence. It is self-preservation. And that is an act of political warfare. -Audre Lorde
All these examples, combined with our 24/7 digitised world that cultivates a constant, deep sense of FOMO in us, stack the odds against us for pursuing intentional relationships with ourselves. My project is interested in reclaiming “free” time as something that doesn’t need to be earned, explained, or paid for, just ours, and time alone as a space for presence, aliveness, and the cultivation of a relationship that is valuable, playful, and communal in and of itself.
My reflections.
When I got out of my long-term relationship earlier this year, it wasn’t sadness that weighed me down. It was loneliness. All of a sudden, I had an overwhelming amount of free time that, frankly, I had no idea what to do with. Paired with my long-held belief that being alone during a breakup is a dangerous act that should be avoided at all costs, I immediately hit up all my friends to fill my days with plans. Eventually, the time came when my friends were busy, and I was forced to be alone with my thoughts. To my surprise, though, I found that time spent in my own company turned out to be some of the most freeing, creatively productive, and social experiences of my life.
I’m almost unrecognisably more creative when I have the time to listen to, process, and act on my thoughts (for once) instead of constantly consuming other people’s — whether through real-life interactions, books, or social media.
Everything is a muscle — every habit, every relationship — and the more energy and time I started redirecting into myself, the more I started genuinely enjoying my own company.
Related to the point above, the boundaries in all my relationships became stricter. Once, a friend said, “When you are going through a breakup, your tolerance to BS becomes so low.”
A quick note for fellow recovering people-pleasers: it’s been unexpectedly affirming to notice how people respond to boundaries. Almost all (though not all, indicative of those relationships) difficult conversations I’ve had with my loved ones have been met with mutual respect and formed deeper relationships.
Lastly, on a more silly note, I realised that I’m not doing anything ground-breaking. At these gigs, restaurants, walks, and trips, I came across so many others doing these things alone. A reminder that again, everything is a muscle — what seems nerve-wracking to some is second nature to others.
It became clear to me that my “free” time was not something to be quickly replaced by involving other people or thought of as a reflection of an unsuccessful, lonely life, as capitalism would have it. Rather, this time (that not everyone is granted, for varying reasons — working multiple jobs to survive, having to be present for others, etc.) improved my ability to show up for my community in more honest, rejuvenated, and grounded ways. So if you have the privilege of time, squeeze the life out of it.
The art of solo dates.
Here’s how I’ve been trying to squeeze the life out of my time alone. About a month ago, I started a series on my TikTok page called “The Art of Solo Dates,” taking myself out on solo adventures around London and sharing them with my audience (93% of whom are women). I wanted to democratise my experience and discoveries along the way, which felt vastly contradictory to what we’re fed by mass media.
From taking myself out to art galleries, the infamous Bar Italia in Soho for a cappuccino and many padron peppers, a long nature hike, and venturing out on a day trip to the seaside of Margate, I’ve made friends and expanded my community, in addition to (re)connecting with new and old parts of myself. From going to open mics, I reignited my lost childhood hobbies, such as playing saxophone and writing poetry, and plugged into the city I live in more intentionally than ever before.
Quick interlude for my golden recipe for successful solo dates:
The prep — setting the intention. The date starts before the date. Treat yourself to a nice coffee, a phone call with your best friend, or a new outfit you have been meaning to wear.
Staying present, observant, and sensitive. Tune into your surroundings. What do you notice when you’re moving through life without distractions?
The aftercare. This whole thing is about romanticising your life at the end of the day. My go-to: making plans with my friends or cooking a nice meal. Small but meaningful.
Moving forward.
In the spirit of community, I’m starting this Substack page to expand on my work on TikTok to share the interviews with people in my life on their experience spending time in their own company. This could look like anything from sharing their favourite places to go alone to any reflections, discoveries, and advice.
In doing so, I’m excited to get to know my friends in more intimate ways and particularly intrigued about the nuanced intersections of solo dates across gender, sexuality, race, and class.
Virginia Woolf was right, but for us to create, we need inspiration and to connect with others for it. A few days ago, I was listening to a Wild Geese podcast episode where the host referenced a TikTok saying something like, “walking expands the possibilities that could happen to us.” She was reflecting on how our culture’s obsession with convenience (and in this case, taking faster, easier modes of transportation) can strip away the very experiences that shape us.
It felt like a metaphor for life. It’s often the uncomfortable and inconvenient experiences that plant that unwavering, unshakable confidence in our ability to gracefully move through the ups and downs and everything in between.
I hope this project resonates and speaks to someone else’s quiet hunger, the kind you don’t always know how to name. Follow here for the words, TikTok for the glimpses.
So good, love this project
This was such a refreshing read! Well done! :)