Why I Choose to Live Alone

The first time I moved into an apartment to live by myself was over fifteen years ago. I was twenty-seven and back home in Houston. I was living with my parents free of charge while I searched the city for potential roommates.

Most of my male friends were either engaged or close to it, so when six months passed, I decided to put a deposit down. $550. I remember the check and how my landlord doubled as the handyman on-site.

The place was a unique bungalow in one of my favorite parts of town. It had a loft bed, window unit, and garden just outside the sliding door. Three states later, and I’m still living solo in interesting apartments. Over a thousand miles, too. Last year, I began renting a two bedroom in Los Angeles.

Lately, I’ve been wondering, Why do I prefer this? It certainly isn’t cheap and there’s an isolation factor. Why do I enjoy living by myself when I could be cohabitating?

The answers surprised me, and I feel like others may relate to where I am in the journey. Read on if you’re wondering why heading home to an empty apartment somehow appeals to you, too.

Most People (Still) Exhaust Me

I’ve known I was an introvert since a young age, but as I’ve grown up, I still forget to monitor my energy levels to make sure they’re not depleted. Being around co-workers quickly drains my battery. Returning home to be by myself is a great way to recharge.

Even my deeper friendships can exhaust me if I’m not careful. It’s not them, it’s me. I’m a sensitive person who needs space from most things until I find myself again.

As I’ve aged deeper into my 30s, I’ve realized that living alone is a great way to counterbalance the fact that as humans, we must interact with each other each day. There’s no circumventing this. Even the lone wolf freelance writer must call his editor every now and again Note: they’ll likely email instead.

Living alone is a way for me to always ensure I have somewhere to retreat to, day or night. It gives me a chance to become present again so I can continue to have meaningful interactions with people I most value in my life.

Writing Requires Time, Space, and Consistency

Speaking of which, living solo also gives me the opportunity to mentally retreat without disruption. Once there, I can create for hours. I have found it much easier to grow as a writer as someone who lives alone.

There is something about scheduling my writing sessions daily, clocking in and going for it. It’s starting a story and meeting my word count. It is knowing I have no excuses except my own, and that even those don’t amount to much.

It’s worth noting there is a danger here: potentially devaluing the importance of real world experience when putting thoughts to paper. Every artist should be aware of this. It is imperative to find the balance between living life and reflecting on it when you’re already introspective.

Still, living alone puts me in the driver’s seat with writing, both literally and figuratively. It makes me show up to the desk because I know there is no one else that requires my attention.

Waiting for the Perfect Roommate Is Worth the Wait

Even though I’m drawn to living by myself, I’ve a sneaky suspicion it won’t be forever. I’m hopeful it won’t, at least. I’d like to graduate to living with someone if the conditions are right.

I hope that someone is a girlfriend, a special lady. Though I’ve had meaningful relationships, I’ve never lived with one before, and would love to work toward it when I feel ready to date again.

Finding romantic love has been difficult for me — much more so than anticipated — but as I mature and break new ground in my healing journey, I’ve been surprised by how much I still desire to experience it. It’s funny what becoming sober will do for you. It made me realize I’m capable of sharing my life with someone.

In order to do this, I’ll have to share the deepest parts of myself. To do that, I’ll have to give up my space, the walls I’ve built to protect myself against the elements.

At 43, it’s true, I’m less likely to meet single people consistently, but I don’t let that dissuade me.

I’ll continue working on myself. After living by myself for so long, I don’t mind giving up my freedom to gain a future with the right person.

Ifthere’s one thing that years of living by myself have taught me is this: you don’t have to be alone to feel lonely. Once I discovered this, I knew I was home free.

I realized millions around the world were lonely despite cohabitating with someone else. Somehow, I’d largely avoided this. Why did I largely enjoy the space I’d carved for myself?

The answer may lie with the German philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer, a self-described pessimist, who wrote on the differences between solitude and loneliness, how being solitary means retreating into yourself to take pleasure in your own company.

According to him, “[when] we’re solitary we reach into a communion with the self, and we can think as freely, and be as honest, as we like.” Only when we are cut off from all other distractions — including people — do we have the space to meditate on life, and to discover great things.

I don’t need to be a philosopher to know that despite this, we’re all lonely at times. And that living alone as an adult is normal. It doesn’t belong to your twenties, just as it doesn’t belong to your fifties, eighties, or beyond.

The art of solitude is ageless. How about we relax and age into it a bit more?