Table for one, actually

Not a big deal (but feels like it is)

“Chopsticks?” - “Yes please!” - “How many?”

It was in that moment when a flush of embarrassment hit and I panic-answered…

“Two, please!”

A takeaway sushi order that was simply for me.

Maybe the waitress was just being polite? Perhaps she thought it was a big order? I didn’t particularly think so but what can I say, I like my food.

Our self-critical thoughts can be so silly sometimes - saying or doing what we think others want to hear or assume about us. I shouldn’t have cared if she thought I was eating by myself. Chances are she wouldn’t have batted an eyelid, but naturally, I did care.

It’s funny how something so small can suddenly feel so exposing when you’re on your own. Because once you learn to settle into it, it actually feels quite good. You feel more, well, like you, and a bit less bothered by everything else.

Especially at a table for one.

I’ve never once looked at someone dining alone and thought negatively of it. In fact, quite the opposite. Cool, composed, confident, chic! But doing that by ourselves? Not quite so easy.

We do things alone all the time - everyday rituals like brushing our teeth, commuting, the food shop. But it’s the intentional moments that push us slightly past our comfort zone which give us that quiet, self-assured glow. Things like booking a single theatre ticket, a table at a restaurant, or a solo long weekend break away.

I’m quite introverted by nature, so booking a solo trip to Rye last weekend felt great - easy, actually! (I’ve had a fair bit of practice). Long walks, hot chocolate shop stops, simple wandering - lovely! But it’s the solo dining that I’ve always found a little more exposing.

But why do we get so eeek! about it? Is it the thought that someone might think you’re lonely? Or have no one to be there with? But really, no one actually cares. Most people are too preoccupied in their own lives to even spare a thought at yours. And if they do judge, let ‘em.

But there is real joy in doing things alone, especially dining, that we forget. It’s rare, but it’s a moment where it’s all about you. You can choose exactly what time you want to go. Exactly what to order from the menu. And exactly when to leave. Dreamy!

I read somewhere that it typically takes about 15 minutes for the brain to get over uncomfortable boredom. I notice it most on walks - the instinct to reach for my phone and airpods. But this time, I didn’t for a good 20 minutes. Then I had no desire to listen to anything. I was simply enjoying being with my own thoughts.

The same happened at the restaurant. A slight cringe as they took me to my table, set for two, and quietly whisked away the extra place setting (we both knew it was a booking for one). After ordering and no longer having a menu to hold as a safety blanket, I went to grab my phone, ready to pretend like I was busy. But no. I watched the crackly log fire, nosied at the delicious food wafting past, and picked up my book. So while for those first few minutes I did feel the eeek, waiting a few minutes more made me settle into it and enjoy the alone. Once you change the mindset from “I’m on my own” to “This is a treat for myself and I’m going to make the most of it”, it softens quite quickly.

Order five sharing plates to yourself. Book the best seat in the theatre - slap-bang in the middle. Soon enough, you stop caring that there’s anyone else around and you start to quietly exude a confidence that others can’t help but notice (probably wishing they were doing the same, going by their own rules, too).

I’m writing this like I’ve totally cracked it. Absolutely not. Even at the weekend I thought I was doing the solo-dining thing pretty well until this vibrantly loud group of four came in and I convinced myself they were looking at me, forming opinions. But they didn’t. They seemed very lovely and were in their own little world and didn’t care about what I was doing. Just like I said.

A book helps. Something to dip in and out of. It feels a little better than getting a phone or laptop out because suddenly you’re then in “businesswomen” mode.

Wear an outfit that makes you feel great too. I treated myself to a pair of these maroon-red ballet pumps and I feel fabulous when I wear them. That pop of colour! A reminder to myself to wear them more often.

Enjoy people watching, or listening. Quietly making up little stories in your head about who they are, where they’ve come from, is always fun. (Plus the book acts as a handy cover for it).

And somewhere in all that, it clicks. Not forcing confidence or pretending to be someone you’re not, but letting yourself enjoy the things you want to enjoy and settling into it, by yourself. Because when you feel good in yourself, it shows - just in a quieter, more effortless way.

So book the table, the theatre, the weekend trip away, for one. Order the pasta AND the pizza, because heck, you can. You’ll feel bloody brilliant.

And next time someone asks me how many chopsticks I want, I too, will say one, please.