Thriving Solo

Tag: life

  • When “Me Time” Turns Into “Too Much Time”

    One of the perks of living alone is that you get plenty of me time. You’re in charge of your space, your time, your routines. You don’t have to negotiate plans, share the remote, or justify your schedule to anyone. It’s freedom in its purest form.

    But there’s a shadow side to that freedom—it can be really easy to drift into isolation without even noticing. Especially if you’re naturally introverted, socially anxious, or just plain tired from life.

    So how do you know when your alone time is doing you good—and when it’s quietly wearing you down?

    Solitude vs. Avoidance

    True solitude is a choice. It’s when you want to be alone, and your time with yourself feels intentional. You read, go for walks, work on projects, rest, cook, clean, stare out the window—whatever. You feel like your life is yours.

    Avoidance, on the other hand, is when you don’t want to be alone, but you’re not doing anything about it. Maybe it’s fear of awkward social moments, the discomfort of meeting new people, or just the inertia that builds after spending too many weekends solo.

    It’s the difference between opting out and shutting down.

    Sometimes, avoidance looks a lot like solitude—until it doesn’t. Until you realise you’ve gone a week without a real conversation. Until even texting a friend feels like too much effort. Until you start wondering if this is just what your life is now.

    I’m fortunate to have family in town – when they reach out with an invitation, my personal rule is that I won’t say ‘no thanks’ unless I’m already booked somewhere else… somewhere that isn’t at home.

    I made this rule for myself because I could feel the self-inflicted isolation happening.

    At the same time, I don’t always have to wait for an invitation. A simple “Hey, you guys up for a visitor this afternoon?” or random drop-by when I’m out for a ride are both on the cards. Just don’t depend on people always being available when you reach out.

    The Gradual Slide

    Living alone doesn’t usually shift from “healthy solitude” to “full isolation” overnight. It’s subtle, insidious.

    It starts with declining a few invitations because you’re tired. Then not making any new plans because it’s cold or you’re busy. Then realising it’s been a month and the only people who’ve said your name out loud are baristas.

    There’s no big turning point. Just a slow slide into numbing routines and low-level loneliness that’s easy to ignore—until you can’t.

    Signs You Might Be Leaning Too Far In

    • You start turning down invitations reflexively—even the ones you might enjoy.
    • You find yourself restless or down but can’t quite name why.
    • The idea of seeing people feels exhausting, but being alone isn’t making you feel better either.
    • You’ve convinced yourself you don’t need anyone, but a part of you wonders if that’s really true.

    None of these signs mean something is wrong with you. They’re just cues—invitations to check in with yourself.

    Rebuilding Connection, Gently

    If you realise your me time has tipped into too much time, you don’t need a dramatic intervention. You don’t need to “get out more” or go full extrovert.

    Start small. Send a message to someone you like but haven’t seen in a while. Make a plan you can cancel without guilt. Go sit in a cafe with a book—just being around people counts.

    Maybe just go and walk somewhere with lots of people around. A popular weekend or evening destination, a shopping centre.

    Final Thoughts: It’s a Balance

    Alone time is essential, but it’s not infinite fuel. Even the most independent people need connection. And it’s not weakness to admit that. It’s just being human.

    When you live alone, you have to be your own emotional barometer. You’re the one checking in, adjusting course, noticing when the silence is restorative—and when it’s starting to echo.

    Me time is beautiful. Just don’t let it become a burden.

  • Don’t You Get Lonely?

    It’s the question everyone asks when they find out you live alone. The assumption is always the same—if you’re on your own, you must be lonely.

    And sometimes, yeah. I am.

    But here’s the thing: loneliness isn’t always a problem to be solved. It’s a feeling, like any other. And like any other feeling, it doesn’t last forever.

    For me, loneliness is often a sign that I’m bored, or somehow dissatisfied with what I’m spending my time on. That I should get off my behind and go DO something. Sometimes that might be with other people, but more often than not, I’ll find something better to do by myself.

    We have this idea that being alone should be an unbroken stretch of contentment, productivity, and peace. That if you’re doing it “right,” you never feel lonely at all. But loneliness isn’t a sign that you’ve failed at living alone—it’s just part of the human experience.

    It’s a contrast. And this contrast makes my social time feel more meaningful.

    Loneliness Comes and Goes

    Living alone doesn’t mean you’re lonely all the time. Most of the time, it’s great. You get to do what you want, when you want, without answering to anyone. You can go entire days without making small talk. You control your space, your schedule, your whole life.

    But every once in a while, loneliness shows up—maybe on a quiet Sunday when there’s nothing planned, or after a long day when there’s no one to share it with. It doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with your life. It just means you’re human.

    Some people fear loneliness so much that they try to fill every silence with noise, every empty space with people, every free moment with distraction. But being alone isn’t something that needs to be “fixed.” It’s something to live through, sit with, and accept.

    You Don’t Have to Fear the Quiet

    One of the biggest gifts of living alone is learning to be comfortable in your own company. Not every moment needs to be filled, and not every feeling needs to be changed. Sometimes, loneliness is just the background hum of a quiet evening, and that’s okay.

    When you stop treating loneliness as a problem, it loses its impact.  You start to recognise it for what it is—a passing moment, not a permanent state.

    I’m a words guy—words are how I shape my own world in so many ways. So, rather than “I’m lonely”, I reframe it to “I’m feeling lonely right now”. It’s not a huge shift in terms of language, but in terms of the weight of the feeling? For me, that shift is massive.

    It takes it from “I am…” to “I am experiencing…”. Something that I am is a HUGE thing. Something that I’m experiencing is transitory.

    There’s power in being able to sit with your own thoughts. In not needing to reach for your favourite distraction (phone) the second after silence creeps in.

    Loneliness is an experience, and you become more whole by allowing yourself to dwell in that experience when it occurs.

    Loneliness Is Part of the Deal—And That’s Not a Bad Thing

    No matter how full your life is, everyone feels lonely sometimes. Even people in relationships. Even people with big families and busy social lives.

    The difference is, when you live alone, you don’t get to ignore it. You don’t get to just make it go away by pulling other people into your life.

    And maybe that’s a good thing. Because when you face loneliness instead of running from it, you get stronger. You stop fearing time by yourself. You learn to be content with your own thoughts. You realise that being alone and being lonely aren’t the same thing.

    So yeah, sometimes I get lonely. But I wouldn’t trade the life I have—the space, the freedom, the self-sufficiency—for the illusion that being around people all the time would magically make that feeling disappear.

    Because it wouldn’t. And because I’ve learned something important:

    Loneliness isn’t the opposite of happiness. It’s just part of life.

  • How to Stop Wasting Time When You Live Alone

    …without Feeling Like a Productivity Robot

    Living alone means total freedom over your time—which is both a blessing and a curse. There’s no one to nag you about unfinished tasks, no shared schedules dictating when things get done, and no external structure keeping you on track.

    And that’s great… until you realise that you just spent three hours scrolling through Reddit, your sink is full of dishes, and somehow, you have nothing to show for an entire weekend.

    Time can disappear when there’s no one else around to anchor it, and when you live solo, it’s easy to drift between unstructured hours and low-energy habits without even noticing.

    So how do you stop wasting time without turning your life into an exhausting productivity checklist? The key is balance—finding a rhythm that lets you feel satisfied with your days without falling into the trap of over-optimisation.

    Recognise the Difference Between “Rest” and “Drift”

    Not every slow moment is wasted time. Resting is necessary: it helps you recharge, process thoughts, and reset for the next thing. Drifting, on the other hand, is when you’re not really resting or being productive. Instead, you’re just passing time in a way that doesn’t feel meaningful.

    The key is awareness. If you feel better after an activity (watching a show you love, taking a walk, reading, or gaming), it was rest. If you feel sluggish, guilty, or like the time evaporated with nothing to show for it, you were drifting.

    Quick Fix: Before starting any activity, ask yourself: Will this make me feel better or worse afterward? If it’s true rest, keep going. If it’s mindless drifting, shift gears.

    Afterwards, evaluate the truth of what you thought before you started, and learn something from that lesson.

    The “Accidental Time Sink” Problem

    Living alone means no built-in interruptions to break up your time. There’s no roommate coming home to snap you out of a social media spiral. No one asking, “What have you been up to?” to make you reflect on your day.

    That’s how an hour of “I’ll just check my phone” turns into an entire evening lost.

    Quick Fix: Use a Pattern Interrupt—when you catch yourself mindlessly scrolling or zoning out, do something physical for 30 seconds (stand up, stretch, get a drink). That tiny action resets your focus and helps you make a conscious decision about what to do next.

    Make “Soft Structure” Work for You

    Rigid schedules don’t work for everyone, and living alone means you don’t have to follow anyone else’s routines. But that doesn’t mean your days should be entirely unstructured.

    Soft structure means creating a flow to your day without forcing a rigid schedule.

    Instead of saying, “I will start work at exactly 9:00 AM,” try “I will start my first task after I make coffee and open my laptop.”

    Instead of “I will read for 30 minutes every night,” go with “I will read a few pages before bed, even if it’s just two.”

    Quick Fix: Identify one or two anchor points in your day—things that naturally happen (waking up, meals, getting home from work). Use those as triggers for small actions that help you stay on track.

    Stop Making Every Task a “Big Thing”

    When you live alone, tasks expand to fill the time you give them.

    Laundry doesn’t take three hours. It takes ten minutes to start a load, two minutes to switch it, and five minutes to put it away.

    Dishes don’t take “forever.” It’s a five-minute job unless you let them pile up. If you do let them pile up, it’s still only half an hour.

    When no one else is around to hold you accountable, small tasks can feel bigger than they are.

    Quick Fix: Use the 10-Minute Rule—set a timer for 10 minutes and start any task. If you want to stop when the timer goes off, you can. Most of the time, you’ll just finish the thing.

    I use my Air Fryer for a lot of my evening meals, and my personal rule is that I won’t sit down while it’s running – I’ll do something. That 10-15 minutes (depending on what I’m cooking) is when I take care of a lot of my simple household maintenance tasks.

    Use “Intentional Time-Wasting” to Your Advantage

    Sometimes, wasting time is exactly what you need—but it’s better when it’s on purpose instead of by accident.

    Binge-watching a show guilt-free is fun. Binge-watching out of procrastination and regret is miserable.

    The difference? Deciding in advance.

    Quick Fix: Set a “permission window” for things that might otherwise feel unproductive. “I’m going to spend an hour gaming, and then I’ll get up and do something else.” That way, it’s an active choice, not a passive drift.

    Final Thoughts: Living Alone Means You Set the Pace

    The best part of solo living is that you get to decide how you spend your time. No one else shapes your schedule, routines, or priorities—you have total control.

    That freedom is powerful, but it also means you have to be your own guide. The trick isn’t to cram your time with constant productivity, but to be intentional about where your hours go.

    You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to notice when time is slipping away and decide if that’s what you really want.

    So go ahead—watch that show, scroll that feed, take that nap. Just make sure that when you do, it’s because you chose it, not because the time just disappeared.

  • Thriving Solo Isn’t a Waiting Room

    Solo living is often framed as a phase—something temporary, something you pass through on your way to a “real” life with a partner. But what if that’s not true? What if thriving solo is just as valid, just as fulfilling, as any other way of living? What if, for you, it’s even better?

    This isn’t about saying solo life is superior—it’s about recognizing that it might be better for you. It might be better for you forever, or just for now. Either way, the important thing is making the most of it, rather than treating it as a holding pattern while you wait for something else.

    The Myth of Solo Life as a Transition Phase

    From childhood, we’re conditioned to see relationships as milestones—the next step in a progression that starts with school, leads to work, and culminates in pairing up with someone. Living alone, especially for an extended period, is often seen as a gap in that journey, an incomplete chapter. People will tell you, “You’ll find someone eventually,” as if that’s the only logical conclusion to your story.

    But what if it’s not? What if solo living isn’t a phase, but a destination?

    While you ponder that for a moment, remember this too: A destination doesn’t have to be permanent.

    Even if you do eventually choose to be in a relationship, seeing solo living as just a waiting room stops you from fully embracing its benefits. You miss the chance to build a life that’s wholly your own, free from compromise, free from expectations, and rich with self-determined purpose.

    You Are Not Half of a Whole

    There’s a long-standing cultural myth that people are “halves” looking for completion in someone else. This idea is everywhere—from fairytales to rom-coms—but it’s flawed. You are already whole.

    A relationship might enhance your life, but it shouldn’t be the thing that defines its meaning. The moment you start living like you’re waiting for someone to come along and “complete” you, you put yourself on pause. You stop building, stop growing, stop fully inhabiting your own life.

    Instead of waiting, why not thrive? Instead of seeing this time as a gap, why not see it as an opportunity?

    The Real Measure of Success in Solo Living

    If thriving solo isn’t just a phase, how do you measure success? Not by whether you eventually couple up, but by whether your life feels fulfilling and satisfying right now. Success in solo living looks like:

    • Feeling content and at home in your own space.
    • Having routines and habits that support your wellbeing.
    • Enjoying your own company without feeling like something is missing.
    • Pursuing hobbies, passions, and interests on your own terms.
    • Building a life that’s not defined by the absence of a relationship, but by the presence of things that make you happy.

    Solo Might Be Better for You—At Least Right Now

    Maybe solo life is right for you forever. Maybe it’s just right for you right now. Either way, why not make the most of it?

    Instead of treating solo living as a waiting room, see it as an open space where you can explore, learn, and grow without constraints. What do you want from your life, on your own terms? That’s the real question—not whether or not you’ll find someone someday.

    Solo isn’t a pause. It’s a path. And it might just be exactly the right one for you.

  • Activity-Specific Relationships

    … or why not every connection has to be your new BFF.

    We grow up with the idea that we should all have a “best friend forever”—one person who knows everything about us, shares every interest, and is always there, no matter what. It’s a comforting idea, but in reality, most friendships don’t work like that. More often than not, the strongest and most enduring connections are activity-specific relationships—friendships that are deeply meaningful, but centred around a particular shared experience rather than an all-encompassing bond.

    The Myth of the All-Purpose Best Friend

    The idea of a single, catch-all best friend is ingrained in us from childhood. We see it in books, movies, and TV shows—two inseparable people who share every aspect of their lives. But real friendships, just like real people, are far more complex.

    The truth is, it’s rare to find someone who aligns with you across every aspect of life. More often, we connect with different people in different ways. The friend you go hiking with might not be the same one you’d talk to about personal struggles. The person who shares your love of old movies might not care at all about your latest work project. And that’s okay.

    Why Activity-Specific Relationships Matter

    Rather than seeing friendships as “all or nothing,” it can be freeing to embrace relationships for what they actually are: meaningful within their specific context. Activity-specific relationships thrive because they remove the pressure of needing to be everything for each other. Instead, they let people connect in ways that are natural and effortless.

    Some of the strongest bonds people form are through shared activities. A running partner, a gaming friend, a book club companion, a gym buddy—these are all relationships built on something tangible and real. And in many ways, they can be even more valuable than an undefined, all-purpose friendship.

    I’ve had great friends that I trained martial arts with. Others that I’ve gamed with. I’ve made friends at work, at the gym, at photo sessions and simply because we both ended up at the same cafe at the same time a lot.

    None of them were BFF’s, but they were all meaningful connections. All of them had value to me, added something to my life, and none of them were permanent.

    That’s OK. There’s a strength in that.

    The Strength in Defined Connections

    A friendship that exists within a defined activity can often feel more stable. There’s a built-in rhythm, a natural way to interact, and no pressure to make it anything other than what it is. These relationships allow for depth and connection without the weight of expectation—no need to be each other’s emotional crutch, no pressure to force a deeper connection outside of the shared space.

    Activity-based friendships can also be longer lasting than general-purpose friendships. When a friendship is built around “everything,” it can be more prone to fizzling out when life circumstances change. But when it’s built around something specific—weekly game nights, weekend cycling trips, an online writing group—it has a strong foundation to keep it going, even if other aspects of life shift.

    Letting Go of the Need for One “Perfect” Friend

    There’s something liberating about allowing friendships to be what they naturally are. Rather than searching for a single person to fulfill every social need, embracing a variety of connections based on shared interests and activities can lead to a richer, more fulfilling social life.

    Instead of asking, “Who is my best friend?” the better question might be: “Who do I connect with in ways that matter?”

    Maybe your deep, meaningful conversations happen with a friend from your book club. Maybe your sense of adventure is shared with a travel buddy. Maybe your competitive side comes alive with your gaming group. None of these friendships are lesser for being activity-specific. If anything, they may be more meaningful because they allow each person to be fully themselves in that space, without needing to be everything to each other.

    Final Thought: A New Definition of Meaningful Friendships

    Friendship isn’t about finding one person to be your everything—it’s about forming connections that matter, in ways that work for you. Activity-specific relationships offer a different kind of depth, one that doesn’t demand all-encompassing closeness but thrives on shared passion and consistency.

    And maybe, just maybe, that’s more sustainable—and even more rewarding—than trying to find a single “best friend forever.”

  • About Ozzy: Why I Started ThrivingSolo

    For a long time, I thought of solo living as something you just end up doing. A temporary state. A phase. Something you don’t really choose, but just find yourself in.

    Turns out, that was completely wrong.

    Living alone isn’t a waiting room for “real life.” It is real life. And, if you do it right, it can be one of the most rewarding, freeing, and downright enjoyable ways to live.

    But here’s the thing—most of the advice about living alone falls into two categories: overly practical (budgeting, cleaning, meal prep) or overly existential (embracing solitude, finding yourself, etc.). What I wanted was something in between. Real, useful, sometimes funny, and always geared toward making solo life better.

    That’s why I started ThrivingSolo.

    Who Am I?

    I’m Ozzy—a writer with a mundane dayjob, and I’m someone who knows what it’s like to build a solo life from the ground up. I’ve had roommates/flatmates, I’ve been married and I’ve lived alone. Throughout my various living arrangements, the times when I’ve been the most at peace, the most content, are the times when it’s been just me.

    In those times I learned a lot about what it takes to make solo living work—not just in terms of the practical boring stuff, but how to make your living situations truly your own.

    I know what it’s like to look around your apartment and realise that every mess is your mess (and that there’s no one else to clean it up). I know the struggle of cooking for one without ending up with a week of leftovers you don’t want. I know how easy it is to let the days blur together when no one else is shaping your schedule. And I also know how amazing it is to have full control over your space, your time, and your priorities.

    What You’ll Find Here

    This site isn’t about simply getting by on your own. It’s about living well, finding routines that work for you, and creating a home you actually enjoy being in. It’s for people who want to make solo life less of a survival game and more of an art form.

    You’ll find posts on:

    • Home & Space – How to make your home feel like yours, even if it’s a rental.
    • Solo Routines – Morning and evening habits that actually stick.
    • Food & Cooking – How to cook for one without wasting food or effort.
    • Mindset & Independence – Why living alone isn’t “lonely” unless you let it be.
    • The Fun Stuff – The joy of solo travel, solo date nights, and doing things your way.

    Why ThrivingSolo Exists

    I built this site because I believe living alone isn’t just something to “deal with”—it’s something to embrace wholeheartedly. Whether you’re someone who loves your solo space or someone still getting used to it, this is a place where you’ll find ideas, motivation, and maybe even a few laughs along the way.

    Because at the end of the day, you don’t need a full house to have a full life.

    Welcome to ThrivingSolo—let’s make the most of it.