Thriving Solo

Category: Real Life

  • You’re Not Alone in Feeling Alone

    I’ve been seeing more and more posts lately—people talking about how hard it can feel to live alone. The quietness. The evenings that stretch a little too long. The sense that everyone else is busy with someone else, while you’re just… here.

    If that’s you, this post is for you.

    It’s Not Always a Choice

    Some people live alone by choice. Others don’t.

    Maybe you lost someone. Maybe a relationship ended. Maybe you moved to a new city, or away from flatmates, or just reached a point in life where circumstances put you here.

    Whatever the reason, living alone can sometimes feel like being stuck between chapters. You know this isn’t the final destination—but you’re not sure what comes next.

    That’s real. And that’s hard.

    Solitude and Loneliness Are Not the Same Thing

    Solitude can be beautiful. But when it’s not chosen—when it creeps in rather than being welcomed—it can feel heavy.

    Even when it was chosen, some days still hit harder than others.

    Even seasoned introverts can feel the ache of too much quiet. Me included.

    So if you’re feeling it right now? There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re not doing life wrong. You’re just human. You’re just in a moment.

    You’re Allowed to Miss People

    It doesn’t make you weak. It doesn’t mean you’re failing at independence. Missing connection is part of being alive.

    Send the text. Call your sister. Say yes to a catch-up. Or no, if you’re not up to it right now.

    Loneliness isn’t always solved by people—but people do help. And if you don’t have people right now? That doesn’t mean you never will. Life turns. Chapters end. New ones start.

    This is just one part of your story.

    In the Meantime, Be Kind to Yourself

    You don’t need to love every moment of living alone to still take care of yourself in it.

    Eat real meals.

    Make your bed.

    Light the candle.

    Put on music.

    Talk out loud to yourself if it helps.

    Be kind. To yourself.

    Do what you can to make your space feel less like a holding cell, and more like a home.

    Not because it fixes everything, but because small comforts matter.

    Final Thoughts

    If you’re struggling with living alone, I want you to know this:

    You’re not broken.

    You’re not a failure.

    You’re not alone in feeling alone.

    It’s okay to not be okay all the time.

    This season won’t last forever. While you’re in it, I hope you can find ways to feel okay. Not perfect. Not amazing. Just okay.

    That’s more than enough for now.

  • The Luxury of an Unshared Schedule

    There’s something deeply satisfying about waking up when your body is ready, not when someone else’s alarm goes off.

    About eating dinner when you get hungry. About going to bed without coordinating it with anyone. About never having to explain why you’re eating bacon at 10pm or vacuuming at 7am on a Sunday.

    It’s one of the quiet luxuries of living alone: your schedule is entirely your own.

    Yesterday, I woke up at 1am, had breakfast at 2:30 and went back to bed at 5am for a couple of hours. Not planned, definitely not optimal, but I got some stuff done while my body was insisting on my being awake.

    No Negotiations, No Syncing Required

    When you live with someone, even if you love them, your routines tend to orbit theirs. You eat when they eat. You wind down when they do. You sometimes adjust your bedtime, your shower time, or your noise levels to keep the peace.

    That’s fine—it’s part of coexisting.

    But when you live solo?

    There’s no negotiation. No syncing up. No guilt when your habits don’t match anyone else’s, because no one else is there.

    You get to ask yourself what works for you—and then just do that.

    You Learn Your Own Rhythm

    I’m a fan of early mornings. There’s something about the quiet before the world stirs that feels sacred. But I’ve also had phases of late-night flow states—writing, gaming, or reading until the small hours.

    The beauty is: I don’t have to choose one or explain it. I can shift with the seasons of my life. I can follow energy, not obligation.

    That’s a kind of freedom I didn’t realise I was missing until I had it.

    You Can Eat When You’re Hungry (Not When It’s “Time”)

    Breakfast doesn’t have to be at 8. Dinner doesn’t have to be at 6.

    There’s no one checking if you’ve had lunch or wondering why you’re just now making coffee at noon.

    I’ve had days where I graze gently until evening and others where I’ve made a full steak lunch and followed it with ice cream at 3. Some nights, toast is enough. Some mornings, I eat nothing at all.

    The point isn’t the food. It’s that no one else’s hunger dictates my meals.

    Rest Without Coordination

    Sometimes I want to nap mid-afternoon. Sometimes I want to go to bed at 8. Sometimes I’m up at 5 because I’m excited to write. I don’t have to ask for quiet. I don’t have to explain why I’m tired. I just… do what I need.

    There’s no “Are you going to bed already?”

    No “Did you just wake up?”

    No commentary. No judgment.

    Just rest, when I need it.

    Final Thoughts

    Living alone means a lot of things. But one of the best parts?

    The luxury of building a life that flows with you—not against you.

    You don’t have to justify your timeline.

    You don’t have to match anyone’s pace.

    You don’t have to rush or slow down for someone else’s convenience.

    Your days are yours.

    Your time is yours.

    And that’s not just a perk—it’s a privilege.

  • This Is Not Just a Phase

    There’s a certain kind of look people give you when they hear you live alone and like it.

    It’s not always judgement. Sometimes it’s curiosity. Sometimes it’s pity, sometimes naked, often thinly disguised. But almost always, it comes with an assumption: that this, whatever it is, must be temporary. That you’re just taking some time for yourself before you return to “normal.” That eventually, you’ll get tired of the silence. That eventually, you’ll want more.

    More people. More connection. More something.

    Here’s what I’ve come to realise:

    This isn’t a phase. This is my life—right now. Not a prelude to anything. Not a holding pattern. Not a waiting room.

    Just… life. And it’s good.

    A girl, sitting on a bed and drinking tea by a window with potted plants by the windowsill.
    Photo by Ashlyn Ciara on Unsplash.

    I Didn’t Fall Into This By Accident

    I didn’t wake up one day and suddenly find myself living alone. I made choices. I said yes to certain things and no to others. I prioritised autonomy over entanglement. I built a life that fits me, not one that fits a template.

    Also: I don’t claim this is how things will always be.

    People change. Needs change. Circumstances shift. I’m open to the possibility that someday I might want something different.

    At the same time, I’m not looking to change. Simply open to the prospect.

    That doesn’t make this phase less real or less valuable.

    We do ourselves a disservice when we treat every solo life as a transitional one. When we suggest that solitude is only meaningful if it’s leading somewhere else.

    Sometimes, solitude is the destination. Or at least, the right stop for now.

    The Pressure to Evolve Into Something Else

    There’s a kind of self-help narrative that tells us we should always be striving, always improving, always moving forward into the next version of ourselves. And in that worldview, choosing to stay still—or choosing something quieter, smaller, simpler—can feel like rebellion.

    But rebellion isn’t the goal here.

    Presence is.

    I’m not living alone to prove a point. I’m living alone because it’s what fits me right now, because it allows me to be more myself. Because I like the rhythm of my days. Because my space feels good this way.

    There’s nothing unfinished about that.

    It’s a Choice, Not a Life Sentence

    Saying “this is not a phase” doesn’t mean “this is forever.”

    It’s also not entirely true. EVERYTHING is a phase. Nothing is permanent. I had a childhood phase, a university phase, a young professional phase, an engaged phase and a marriage phase. Now I’m having a solitary phase.

    It simply means I’m not treating this as a problem to be solved. Some phases are transitional – engagement, for example. Others, such as marriage, are intended to be indefinite and ongoing—but that doesn’t always work out.

    I’m not measuring this moment against a hypothetical future.

    I’m not living my life like it’s just the trailer for a movie that hasn’t started yet.

    Maybe someday I’ll make room for someone else in this space. Maybe not.

    If I do, it won’t be because I finally “grew out of” living alone.

    It’ll be because my life shifted, and I chose something new from a place of fullness—not from lack.

    Why? Because I don’t lack. I live a full life, on my own terms, and while I enjoy company and companionship, I’m not dependant upon it.

    You don’t have to defend your solitude. You don’t have to treat it like a stopgap. You don’t have to soften the edges for the people who can’t imagine being content in your position.

    This is not a phase.

    This is not a mistake.

    This is a life—a good one, and it’s yours.

    It’s what YOU choose to make of it.

  • Your Life Doesn’t Have to Be Optimised

    If you spend enough time online, you’ll start to feel like you’re doing life wrong.

    You’ll see the people who have colour-coded planners, full-body routines, and morning rituals that begin before the sun comes up. You’ll hear about how every moment should be productive. You’ll be told that if you’re not meditating, cold-plunging, tracking your macros, side-hustling, journaling, and levelling up, you’re falling behind.

    And if you live alone, the pressure doubles. Suddenly all that time and space you have is supposed to be fuel for constant self-improvement. You’ve got the hours, right? So what’s your excuse?

    Here’s mine:

    I don’t want my life to be a project. I want it to be a life.

    My yesterday (at time of writing ) is a great example of this.

    My alarm goes off at the same time, but I don’t rush out of bed (which I try to do on week days). Instead, I relax, lay in bed for a while. I reach for my iPad, read for a bit, chat a bit on a couple of Discord servers. I dozed a little bit.

    I got up, and took a shower, got dressed and went downstairs. I wasn’t feeling overly hungry, and the kitchen needed a bit of a tidy up, so I did that. I bought a big tray (for one person) of discounted steak the day before, so I put on a big slow-cook before I made breakfast.

    Then I sat, with my iPad, reading while I ate my bacon and eggs and drank my coffee. I was in a good part of my current book, so I kept reading for a while longer.

    Phone call from my boss interrupted that (nothing urgent, just a bit of a debrief on some things from the previous day), then I went to my computer. Chatted with a couple of people on Twitch, and did some idle gaming for a while. Nothing too challenging, but entertaining nevertheless.

    After a couple of hours, I noticed some friends playing something else, so I joined in with them. That was another four or five hours.

    I took breaks here and there – more water, something for lunch, stirring the big slow-cook. Another break to finish off, then eat the first meal from that big cook—watching some TV while eating.

    Back to the game (different parts of the same group were playing still) until about 8pm, then a re-watch of another couple of episodes of a favourite show before bed.

    I could have done a lot more. And yeah, there’s a part of my brain that was constantly whispering at me, telling me that I should have been doing more.

    At the same time, I have a week’s worth of lazy dinners in the fridge (I told you it was a big slow-cook), and I’m being more productive today.

    So, was it a loss? A waste of a day?

    Not at all. I feel recharged. I enjoyed myself, I spent quality on-line gaming time with people I genuinely like.

    How could I consider that a waste?

    The Myth of the Optimised Human

    There’s a difference between growth and optimisation. Growth is natural. It ebbs and flows. It’s responsive to what you need, not what the algorithm says you should be doing. Optimisation, on the other hand, is about control. It’s about treating yourself like a system that can always be made more efficient.

    But we’re not systems. We’re people.

    Living well doesn’t always look good on paper. Sometimes it looks like a slow start. Sometimes it looks like reading the same chapter twice because your mind wandered. Sometimes it’s doing “nothing” on a Sunday and not turning it into a productivity hack.

    You Are Not Wasting Time by Living

    There’s nothing wrong with making the most of your time. Structure can be helpful. Discipline has its place. But you are not a robot, and your worth is not measured in output.

    Resting is not a waste. Doing things just because they bring you joy is not a waste. Watching a show, cooking a meal, listening to music, going for a walk with no destination—these are not failures of time management. They’re part of a full life.

    When you live alone, there’s no one around to tell you this. No one to remind you that it’s okay not to be improving every second. So you have to remind yourself.

    The Space to Just Be

    One of the quiet gifts of living solo is that you don’t have to perform for anyone. You can just exist. You can be a little messy, a little aimless, a little human.

    Your home doesn’t have to be Instagram-worthy. Your routines don’t need to be airtight. Your days don’t have to be impressive.

    They just have to be yours.

    There’s so much freedom in letting go of the pressure to optimise. In deciding that you don’t need to be your best self all the time. You just need to be yourself.

    Final Thoughts: Life is Not a Spreadsheet

    Solo living gives you space. But space doesn’t always need to be filled with productivity. It can hold quiet. Stillness. Simplicity.

    So if today didn’t feel like a win, that’s okay. If you didn’t “level up,” that’s okay. If all you did was get through the day and feel mostly okay doing it—that’s a pretty decent day.

    You’re not falling behind. You’re not broken. You’re just a person living a life.

    And that life doesn’t have to be optimised for it to be good.

  • A Sunday night alone.

    There’s a particular stillness to Sunday evenings when you live alone.

    No one asking what’s for dinner. No background noise. Just the quiet hum of your space, maybe some music, maybe a show you’ve watched ten times before playing in the background.

    Sometimes I cook. Sometimes it’s leftovers. Sometimes it’s toast. No rules.

    It’s the calm before the storm that is Monday morning. It’s the wind down of a weekend where I’ve been relaxing, living my best life.

    This weekend, I have written, and that’s my main goal for any day. So, that’s a success. I’ve moved forward in some material ways with my writing coaching business, and that matters to me.

    I’ve also cooked and eaten some good meals, spent time gaming with friends, some of it while streaming. For me, this counts as social time – it’s not face to face, which means it’s not always what I need, but it’s still a good social time.

    I’ve learned not to dread the “Sunday scaries.” For me, Sunday night is reset time. No performance, no planning marathons—just a bit of breathing space to put the weekend down gently.

    Sometimes that looks like tidying up. Other times, it’s doing absolutely nothing useful. Lately, it’s meant writing down one or two small intentions for the week—not goals, just ideas I’d like to carry with me.

    And sometimes, it’s just sitting here with a hot drink and the sense that I’m okay.

    Not extraordinary. Not behind.

    It’s okay. I feel good about myself, my weekend, and that’s a good place to end the week. A good place from which to start the week to come.

  • The Art of the Solo Weekend

    For many people, weekends are synonymous with social events, family obligations, or date nights. But when you live alone, your weekends are entirely your own—free from external expectations or demands. This can be both liberating and overwhelming. Without structure, weekends can slip away in a blur of scrolling, binge-watching, and wondering where the time went.

    But solo weekends can be more than just empty time to fill. They’re a chance to recharge, be productive, and fully enjoy your own company. Here’s how to make your solo weekends more fulfilling, intentional, and enjoyable.

    Balance Rest and Productivity

    One of the biggest challenges of solo weekends is finding the right balance between rest and action. Too much rest, and you may feel sluggish and disconnected by Sunday evening. Too much productivity, and you may not feel like you had any weekend at all.

    How to Find the Right Mix:

    • Start with a Check-In: Before the weekend begins, ask yourself—What do I need most right now? More rest? More creativity? More movement?
    • Try a 50/50 Approach: Plan for half your weekend to be restful and half to be active or productive.
    • Set a Simple Focus for Each Day: One day could be for recharging, the other for getting things done.

    Example: My Saturdays normally start with a bit of a cleaning binge. By the end of the week, there’s nearly always something that I didn’t get around to doing through the week, and I know I’ll feel better if it’s not staring me in the face all weekend. So, I do that first.

    I try to spend the rest of the morning being a bit more creative – working on my writing, or maybe some blogging work. No rush, no pressure, just moving things forward.

    Afternoons, I’m open to what’s going on. Maybe I’ll spend time with family, maybe I’ll get on the motorbike and find some curves on the open roads. Maybe I’ll find some friends online, and we’ll go blow up some aliens or kill some zombies together.

    Sundays, I’m more about relaxation.I might put a big cook on in the slow cooker, then spend my time in a book, or a series of movies. Maybe I’ll game some more, maybe I won’t.

    Create a Weekend Ritual

    When you live alone, weekends can blur together with weekdays unless you create rituals that make them feel distinct.

    Ideas for Weekend Rituals:

    • Start with something small. A special breakfast, a morning walk, or an unplugged coffee break can signal that the weekend has begun. For me, this is bacon and eggs, and breakfast at my dining table.
    • A Saturday or Sunday tradition. Whether it’s movie night, an at-home spa session, or a long reading session, having a tradition makes weekends feel meaningful.
    • A dedicated reset time. Use an hour on Sunday to prep for the week ahead—clean your space, plan meals, or set intentions.

    Example: Make Sunday mornings your slow breakfast and journaling time, setting a relaxed tone before the new week begins.

    Explore a Theme for the Weekend

    Choosing a theme or focus for your solo weekend helps prevent it from feeling aimless. Your theme can be about rest, creativity, learning, or adventure.

    Weekend Theme Ideas:

    • The Rest Weekend: Pajamas, books, naps, long baths, no pressure to do anything productive.
    • The Creative Weekend: Writing, painting, photography, or working on a passion project.
    • The Learning Weekend: Watching documentaries, taking an online course, or diving into a new skill.
    • The Mini Adventure Weekend: Exploring a new café, taking a long drive, or visiting a museum alone.

    Example: Set a “Creative Weekend” and spend time on art, writing, or music. No pressure—just exploration.

    Plan One Outing—Even If It’s Just for You

    Solo weekends don’t mean you have to stay inside. Getting out of the house boosts mood and prevents isolation.

    In general terms, I don’t crave company. But sometimes, I do like being out and around other people.

    Easy Solo Outings:

    • Visit a bookstore, museum, or coffee shop.
    • Go for a long walk in a different part of town.
    • Try a solo restaurant experience—sit at the bar, bring a book.
    • Take a day trip somewhere new.

    Example: Pick one small outing, like grabbing coffee at a new spot or taking a scenic walk.

    Make Solo Weekends Feel Special

    When you live alone, it’s easy to treat weekends like just another day. Making small tweaks to elevate your weekend can make a big difference.

    Ways to Make Your Weekend Feel Different:

    • Change up your space. Light candles, play music, rearrange your space slightly.
    • Upgrade your meals. Cook something special or try a new recipe.
    • Dress for the occasion. Even if you’re staying in, wearing something cozy or stylish can change your mood.

    Example: Have a “fancy dinner for one”—cook something special, set the table, and make it feel like an event.

    I do this once in a while – for a meal that I’ve spent a bit more time or money on. I’ll clean any detritus off my dining table (it does seem to attract it through the week), cook a good steak and matching sides, open a bottle of wine. I’ll put some good music on and just plain enjoy the meal.

    Final Thoughts: Enjoying Your Own Company

    Solo weekends aren’t about “filling time”—they’re an opportunity to design your own ideal rhythm. Whether you want to relax, explore, create, or get things done, making small adjustments can turn solo weekends into something you look forward to, rather than just get through.

    If you’re not sure where to start, pick one idea from this list and try it next weekend. Over time, you’ll discover what makes solo weekends feel rewarding for you.

  • 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.

  • 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.