Friday nights used to make me feel like I was supposed to be somewhere. Not necessarily somewhere exciting. Just somewhere. Like I had to be somewhere other than home to kind of celebrate the end of the week. There was always the little question sitting in the back of my mind “So, what should I do tonight?  Or like should I eat at this restaurant.”

For a while, I thought having plans meant I was doing life correctly.

Dinner with friends. Drinks after work. A weekend here, another one there. I remember saying yes quite a lot to nights out, even when I knew I didn’t have the energy for it.

Then, somewhere along the way, I started looking forward to going home.

I would leave work and think about my own couch. A long hot shower. Something easy but tasteful for dinner (I do enjoy cooking every now and then). Maybe an old comforting tv show or movie. Or maybe simply nothing.

It’s crazy to think that I always thought I needed to fill my empty weekend to be “fully living.”

Now sometimes I get home, put my bag down, change into something comfortable, and simply… exist in my living room.

I don’t call anyone. I don’t make plans. I don’t even try to be productive. And I’m telling you that this all felt so strange when I first did it, but I guess over time you kind of adapt to it and your brain starts telling you that “hey, this is okay too”.

I think for the longest time I had been confusing being alone with being lonely. They are not quite the same thing.

Loneliness feels like wanting someone there and feeling the absence of them. Solitude; at least for me has started to feel more like choosing not to have anyone there for a little while.

See the difference?

I’ve also noticed that I hear myself better when things get quiet. (They aren’t all great but I can hear them)

The self-doubting, questions popping up, over-analysing past situations…

“What am I doing?”

“Am I happy?”

“What am I tired of?”

“Perhaps, it would have turned out better if I had said this..”

I don’t always have good answers. Sometimes I don’t have answers at all. Sometimes I even spiral!

But I like having enough quiet to hear these thoughts. And maybe that’s what I’ve been learning.

I am beginning to understand that being alone doesn’t necessarily mean something is missing. Sometimes it just means there is finally enough room to notice what is already there.

So these days, when Friday night comes around and I don’t have anywhere to be, I don’t rush to fix it.

I usually end up making dinner.

I put on some live music video on the TV, dance a little in the kitchen whilst cooking, or sing along.

Sometimes I read. But most of the time I scroll ’cause I am still a person living in 2026.

Sometimes I stare at the ceiling for no particular reason, and get back to myself before I begin spiralling in my own thoughts — it has happened more often time than I can count!

And honestly, it’s not all bad.

I’m more convinced now that we don’t need to fill every quiet moment. Maybe some of them are meant to stay quiet.

And I’m starting to think I like it that way.

Do you enjoy your own company, or does being alone still feel a little lonely sometimes?

— C. Sol