I am making a number of small changes to my routine and general outlook on life. One of these is eating out alone once a week. I am no stranger to eating along. I have travelled alone many times, most recently last summer when I ate alone every evening for 10 days. I enjoy eating alone on holiday. Bring a book, write in my journal, people watch, watch the world go by. It is typically part and parcel of travelling alone.
Eating out alone at home has been a different experience.
It is a deliberate decision, a choice. I could invite a friend, I could eat at home. But I am choosing not to. I take a book or my Kindle, pick a restaurant near where I work and sit down. There is of course the risk I will see someone I know, a colleague, a friend, who does not realise I am alone through choice and may decide to keep me company or invite me over to his table. I have heard people say they feel uncomfortable or awkward eating alone, but I find it anything but. Yes of course I love the company of others, I am an extrovert after all.
But this feels liberating and there is an undefinable feeling of peace, if I was to give it a name. I feel like this is something I need in my week and wished I had made this decision many months ago.