During a short break between jobs, Emily Zebel took a weeklong solo motorcycle trip to work through grief after a period of loss following her first marriage. She wrote about her experiences for Longreads in today’s new feature, ‘I’m Not Sure What I’m Doing Here.’
The fall of that year slips through my hands, and the bleakness of winter comes like a fist. The interrogations by police and questions from Adam’s family subside. The organized search parties that combed the area’s state forests fold up their maps and go home. The snow is blowing sideways on a December night when my phone lights up with a message from Adam’s sister. Their mom’s cancer has relapsed. I can’t reckon with this family’s pain.
I can’t even feel mine. I had read once that certain kinds of grief can physically change the shape of your heart, and now I can sense my inner world splintering into a kind of numbness that outstrips my recognition of the world, of myself. I get in my truck, blankly clawing my way through the driving snow to see Sandra one last time. She smiles weakly. I am the most selfish human on the planet, I think. I set off this domino effect of tragedy.
It can feel weird to ask a table-service restaurant for a table for one, especially during lunchtime or evening rushes. Don’t worry about it.
• You’re not the only one under-filling a table. Every couple seated at a table or booth for four is using up extra space, too.
• You’re going to be faster and easier to look after.
• You’re helping them draw in other solo customers. “Oh look, they do have room for people like me.”
• In over 20 years of solo travel, I’ve had exactly one restaurant say they couldn’t seat singles. It’s never been weird. No one has ever stared. I’ve never been asked why I’m alone.
Go out. Take up space. Restaurants will be more than happy to have you.
Notes for aspecs: Being aromantic and/or asexual can make you feel like you’re doomed to a life of take-out or coffee shops & delis. To hell with that. Don’t wait for the “excuse” of being on vacation to get out and visit interesting table-service restaurants. You’re not taking up space that belongs to someone else. Matter of fact, I’m giving you a homework assignment. Go find somewhere nice within your budget—somewhere you’ve been avoiding because of who you are—and give yourself the gift of a night out with yourself.
It doesn’t have to be a restaurant. It can be a play, a concert, a music festival, a sports match… whatever. Anywhere that you’ve hesitated to go because you’d feel weird as a party of one. Your excuse for going is that you have a homework assignment: Go out alone, have fun, and write a 100 to 200 word summary of the experience, and post it in the comments.
last week I have been fullfilling my dark academia dreams by hanging out in literal art academias, visiting the old masters, writing in coffee shops and visiting an antiquies gabinet full of dinosaurs and rocks 🐻
Even if you live alone, you probably don’t necessarily get lots of quality alone-time. There’ll be work, social feeds, friends, coworkers, and maybe even nearby family. There’ll be daily routines, podcasts, and the head-filling patterns of every day.
When you’re away somewhere—anywhere—the patterns break. Lunch is whenever, bedtime is whenever, you can turn off notifications and use the excuse that roaming charges are awful. You can tune out and have quiet time and be with yourself, and be yourself.
You can even have that quiet time in the noisiest of places—like a crowded festival city—because none of the noise matters. You won’t be monitoring for familiar voices, local rumours, local bullies, local anything. The noise will be chatter; a texture.
Aspec applications: Aspec travellers can have a little more to tune out than others. If you’re somewhere “vacationy” you’ll probably feel like you’re surrounded by allonormativity and amatonormativity, BUT it’s not impossible to tune out.
Those couples and throuples and families aren’t there to think about you, they’re there to worry about each other (and argue about menus and stress over a hundred other things). If anything, they’re probably a little jealous of how you have the freedom to really just be there. Give off your best “being there” vibe, and thrive on that until your concerns fade away and you can just enjoy being yourself again.