Tag: words

  • Three Words for the Solo Life

    There are words in the world that capture feelings so specific, so subtle, that they don’t translate cleanly into our everyday vernacular. They carry with them a kind of emotional shorthand—a whole philosophy, packed into a single term.

    These three speak to the solo life in ways that feel, to me, like home.


    Isolophilia

    There’s a big difference between being alone and being lonely.

    Isolophilia captures that perfectly. It’s not about withdrawal. It’s about preference. About choosing stillness, not settling for it.

    If you’ve ever felt most like yourself with no one else around—when your thoughts stretch out, when your space feels sacred, when the quiet settles like a weighted blanket—you know what isolophilia feels like.

    This isn’t about rejecting people. It’s about recognising that solitude brings a clarity and calm nothing else can match.


    Eremitism

    Sometimes you don’t realise it’s happening. You stop replying right away. You let plans drift. You reach for peace before noise.

    It’s not personal. It’s not permanent. It’s not punishment.

    Eremitism is a kind of quiet resetting. A soft slip beneath the surface when life feels too loud or too demanding. It’s not about pushing people away—it’s about returning to yourself.

    And when you resurface? You come back clearer, calmer, more whole.


    Sturmfrei

    Sturmfrei is the energy that fills a room when the last guest leaves and you close the door behind them. It’s that subtle click of realisation: this is your space, and no one else gets to set the rules.

    Dinner at midnight. Music loud or not at all. Clothes optional. Silence uninterrupted.

    It’s not chaos—it’s calm without interference. A kind of personal weather system, where the forecast is entirely yours to set.


    Final Thoughts

    Not everyone will understand the appeal of living solo.

    But sometimes, you come across a word from another place, another language, and it lands like a confirmation:

    You’re not alone in loving this.

    Solitude is not a compromise.

    It’s not a lack.

    It’s a language of its own.

    And when you live alone long enough, you learn to speak it fluently.

    (Images found and uplifted from this post on Reddit)