There are so many things that I do by myself without thinking about it: driving to work; walking into the gym to train; going to the cinema; finding a café to sit and read in; even catching a flight to meet a friend in a foreign city.
I bet the thought of at least one of those things filled you with dread!
Some of them came naturally to me, others I had to work much harder at. The cinema is a great starting point if you don’t enjoy activities by yourself – all you’re going to do is sit in the dark and stare at a single screen (I know, weird!) for a couple of hours, so why not do it alone?! Even when you go with someone else, you don’t sit and chat (I hope!) through the film, so it’s not the act of sitting quietly that feels difficult for people. I appreciate that it can be nice to turn to the person next to you as the lights come on, and take a deep breath before discussing what you’ve just seen, but there are still ways (thank you, internet) you can scratch that itch these days having flown solo.
I recently pushed myself even further and went on a new type of solo date. It was something I hadn’t really considered doing alone before, until I found something I wanted to go to, and didn’t know anyone who wanted to accompany me. What pushed me to think “fuck it” and book a ticket, was that I really wanted to go. I had a score to settle – this was something I’d had the chance to do as a teenager, but had had to miss out on. It was time to take a deep breath and just fucking do it.
Which led to me, back in July, buying myself a ticket to a concert.
I will acknowledge that, particularly for women and non-binary people, going to certain activities and events alone can offer a genuine challenge to our safety. And this is again where stepping stones come in. Would I go to a festival by myself and stay overnight? Absolutely not (even if you eliminated the fact that I refuse to sleep in a tent). Things such as venue, timing, and genre matter when it comes to concerts, and fortunately, these were all boxes I could tick.
The venue was in an ideal location, an area I know quite well, and could plan a simple route home from. It was also of a manageable size – not so small that I’d get squished (plus I chose a seated ticket), and not so large that I’d get swamped. Safety assured, it was time to get excited.
When I’m attending something with a friend, part of the experience is sharing the build up – sending each other messages to count down and hype each other up. But again, it’s something you can do alone, you just have to tweak the experience – I played the band’s music on a fairly constant loop, and checked in online with their setlists that they were playing throughout the summer on an earlier leg of the tour (this part isn’t for everyone, as some people like a surprise).
One of my favourite bonuses to flying solo is that you get to make all of the decisions without compromise. Ok, so maybe you can’t always afford the best of the best financially, but at least you don’t have to factor in someone else’s travel plans or dietary requirements. So another part of the excitement for me was choosing an outfit purely to suit myself, and deciding what time I’d arrive, and where I’d eat. These things are honestly so underrated, to dance fully to your own tune!
Fed and watered, I made my way to the venue on the night and made sure to soak it in. I hadn’t been to the Royal Albert Hall before but, growing up in the UK, I’ve seen it on TV many times and I knew it was something special. I’d realised during the build up that it was also the first time I was attending a concert at a venue which had been built specifically to have music performed in it – I’m used to rattly sports or conferencing bowls, where the sound reverberates irritatingly and distractingly, so I was looking forward to hearing some of my favourite songs played in an ideal setting.
And I was absolutely not disappointed. My seat was in a great location, the people around me were polite and respectful, and once the lights went down, it didn’t matter that I’d arrived by myself, because I was surrounded by 5,000 other fans who were there to see exactly what I’d also come to see.
I sang and danced my heart out, took plenty of photos and videos to remember it by (added benefit to waiting almost 20 years to see a show – I didn’t have a smartphone aged 17 as they hadn’t been invented yet, but now I have permanent reminders of this night), and generally had an absolute blast.
When the night ended, I floated home full of joy and happiness, and absolutely glad that I’d pushed myself to go alone to something I really wanted to do. It was a little sad, as ever, to not have someone to chat all night to about it, but my friends who knew I’d gone were still interested to hear how I’d found it (as was one of my clients, which was really sweet!).
If the last three years have taught us nothing, it should be this: when you get a chance, take it.