Growing up, I never imagined I’d live alone.
Living alone means cooking for myself—a lot of cooking.
Seriously, why do we need to eat so many times?
And then there’s cleaning. Weekly, bi-weekly, every day—endless cleaning.
I might spill tea on the floor and leave it there for hours, maybe even days, with no one to question me. But I clean it quickly, I promise. Trust me.
Living alone as a woman means bleeding for five days straight and still getting up to go buy groceries and feed myself because if I don’t, no one else will.
Living alone as a woman is both terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.
Living alone. Living alone? Living by myself !
Living by myself is dancing in my room at 3 AM.
Living by myself is going to bed at 7 PM or 2 AM—it’s my choice.
Living by myself means having all the autonomy to go out late at night, but choosing not to. I want to be tucked in bed by nine, you know.
Living by myself is eating my favorite meals every day yet making it healthy (Hi ma, in case you’re reading this)
Living by myself is coming home to a calm, quiet place.
Living on my own is recognizing the strength in myself.
Living alone is a rich experience of life that not many women get to embrace.
Sometimes, I wonder why I enjoy living by myself so much. Someday, I might have to live with a man?
But for now, living alone has become living by myself—and honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever lived better before.
A marketing girlie with a great passion for writing
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