A Date With Myself

I think solo dates are one of the most underrated ways of getting to know oneself.

People will tell you to meditate. They’ll tell you to do one of those weird detoxes. They’ll tell you to go to an ashram, stay with yourself, be with yourself, disconnect from everything and “find yourself.” And I’m sure you find something when you do that. You find a spiritual part of yourself, maybe an emotional part, maybe you confront things you’ve been avoiding.

But I don’t think that necessarily tells you what kind of person you are.

I think you understand yourself in a completely different way when you put yourself in the middle of ordinary life and realise you don’t need somebody else there to experience it.

Go to a restaurant. Ask for a table for one.

Go to a café and sit there with a book.

Go shopping.

Go for dessert.

Go to a movie.

Just go somewhere because you wanted to go.

I think everybody should do it. Not because you’re single. Not because you don’t have friends. Not because you’re lonely. Even if you’re in a relationship, even if you have the most amazing group of friends, I think you should take yourself out sometimes.

Today was one of my first solo dates.

I say one of my first because I have a feeling I’m going to be doing this a lot now.

Technically, my first was earlier this year when I went to see Vir Das’ Sounds of India. My parents weren’t interested, and I was desperately wanting to see him live after watching all his specials. Then, to my luck, he announced a tour. The second the tickets came out, I told my mum I wanted to go, she bought me the ticket, and I went to the show alone.

And I don’t think I’ve ever laughed that much.

I don’t think I’ve ever just chilled that much.

But I still don’t really count that as a solo date because there were so many people around me. Everyone there was there to laugh at the same things I was. We were all experiencing the same thing together. I was alone, technically, but I was still part of something.

Today felt different.

I had been wanting to do this for a while. I always thought I could do it. I knew I had it in me. But there’s a difference between thinking, Yeah, I could probably go somewhere alone, and actually walking into a restaurant and saying, “Table for one.”

So that’s what I did.

I left my house at around 12:45 and reached the mall at about 1:10. I walked around the fourth floor where all the food places were, went up to the fifth floor, walked around there, came back down, and eventually found myself standing outside a restaurant.

And I just thought, why am I bothered?

Why can’t I sit alone and eat?

Why do I need someone sitting opposite me for me to enjoy lunch?

So I walked in.

“Table for one.”

And I sat down.

I wanted dim sums. I had been craving them, and I wanted good Chinese food, so I ordered four amazing dim sums, chilli chicken with fried rice and a lovely guava Mary.

And, because apparently I had planned this solo date more thoroughly than I had planned most things in my life, I had my phone stand with me.

I put my phone up and watched Friends. Then I watched a bit of Fast & Furious. Eventually I settled on Just Go With It again.

And I ate.

That’s it.

I just ate.

And it was so normal.

That was probably the strangest part.

I had spent so much time thinking about how awkward it might be, whether people would look at me, whether I would sit there and suddenly think, Shit, what am I supposed to do now?

But none of that happened.

There was a mother sitting beside me with her two children, and her elder daughter kept looking at me from the corner of my eye. I remember thinking, I think she’s wondering why this girl is sitting here alone watching Friends.

And then her mother actually said, “I see you’re watching Friends. I love that show.”

And I said, “I love it too.”

That was the entire interaction.

And I remember thinking, Oh.

Nobody cares.

And if they do, I don’t care.

I ate until about 2:30, paid my bill and walked out genuinely happy.

Then I went to Crossword, which was obviously going to happen because I cannot apparently walk past a bookstore without entering it.

I bought myself a book and then spent about twenty-five minutes just loitering around because, well, book lovers things.

Then I went to the cinema.

Alone.

To watch The Magic Faraway Tree.

A children’s movie.

With Andrew Garfield and Nicola Coughlan.

There were children everywhere. And I mean everywhere. And there I was, sitting in a theatre by myself, watching a film I had chosen because I wanted to watch it.

And I was so happy.

It was kiddish, it was fast-paced, it was genuinely so much fun, and at some point I just sat there thinking, Oh my God. I’m actually doing this.

I planned this entire day. I decided when I was leaving. I decided where I was eating. I decided what I was eating. I bought myself a book. I chose the movie. I bought the ticket.

Nobody had to agree to anything. Nobody had to be free. Nobody had to want to eat Chinese food. Nobody had to want to watch the same movie.

It was just me.

And somehow, there wasn’t a single moment where I thought I needed anybody.

I don’t think I spoke more than 200 words throughout the entire day. I spoke to almost nobody. And yet I never once felt like I was missing something.

That’s what I can’t properly explain.

I was alone, obviously. I knew I was alone.

But I didn’t feel alone.

I felt content.

I felt weirdly peaceful.

I felt free.

And I think that’s when I finally understood what independence can actually feel like.

Of course being able to drive, earn your own money, make your own decisions and have the freedom to go wherever you want is independence. Obviously it is.

But there’s something about being able to take yourself somewhere and not needing another person to make the experience feel complete.

Because what happens when nobody is available?

What happens when your friends are busy?

What happens when plans fall through?

Are you just supposed to stay home?

I don’t think so.

You should still go.

And I think today proved that to me.

But then I came home.

And this is where it gets weird, because I think the person I wanted most after spending an entire day proving that I could be by myself was my mum and dad.

My parents are in Bangkok right now.

And I have never been the child who gets upset when my parents travel without me. In fact, I am probably the first person to tell them to go.

I want them to travel.

I want them to go out with their friends. I want them to go to pubs, party, stay out, experience nightlife, meet people, laugh, gossip, chit-chat, do whatever they want. I want them to have fun. I want them to have their own lives outside of being my parents.

And it’s not even that I want to be there.

I don’t.

I’m genuinely happy that they get to do all of that.

But this time, I think I miss them.

And I don’t really know why.

Maybe because I came home today with so much to say.

I wanted to tell them what I ate. I wanted to tell them about the woman who noticed I was watching Friends. I wanted to tell them about the movie. I wanted to show them the book I bought. I wanted to tell them how weirdly proud of myself I felt.

I wanted to come home and run to them and say, “Guys, guess what I did today?”

And they weren’t here.

And I think that’s when I realised something else.

Being independent doesn’t mean you stop wanting people.

It doesn’t mean you stop missing home.

It doesn’t mean you suddenly become this person who doesn’t need anybody.

I think it just means you know that you’ll be okay when nobody is there.

And then, when the people you love are there, you get to love having them there without being dependent on them for every experience.

I can go out alone.

I can have lunch alone.

I can watch a movie alone.

I can spend an entire afternoon without speaking to anyone.

And I can still come home and think, God, I wish Mum and Dad were here.

Both can be true.

And somehow, that makes me feel even more grown up.

Because I think growing up is so much less dramatic than I imagined it would be.

I don’t think I can properly explain what today did to me.

I had tears. I don’t even know exactly why.

I think I was proud of myself. I think I felt older. I think I missed my parents.

I think I was just overwhelmed by the fact that I had spent an entire day with myself and genuinely enjoyed it.

If you have people to go with, I hope you always have people to go with.

I hope you have friends who are free for lunch, someone who wants to watch the same movie, someone who will sit across from you while you eat, someone who will listen to the stupid story you have to tell when you get home.

But every once in a while, go anyway.

Even if nobody can come.

Even if you have to ask for a table for one.

Because today I realised something I think I’ll carry with me for probably my entire life.

I have me.

And, apparently, I’m pretty good company.

(Try me out sometime lol)

As Ever, 

Ambika