Nobody Told Me I’d Love Living Alone at 52

For most of my adult life, there was always somebody else to consider.

I went from living with my parents, to having a roommate, to being a wife and mom. Which means I made it all the way to 52 before I ever lived completely on my own.

I assumed it would feel strange. Maybe even a little sad.

Instead, I’ll tell you what nobody told me.

I love it.

The Quiet Surprise

I’m a homebody. I like my house, I like my dogs, and I like making my own decisions without running them past anyone.

It turns out I’m also pretty good company for myself, which is something I never had the chance to find out before.

One of my favorite things about living alone is how comfortable I am just being at home.

I can spend the morning in yoga pants and a comfortable top, drinking my coffee, hanging out with my dogs, and doing whatever I feel like doing.

And you know what else I love? When I clean something, it stays clean. When I put something somewhere, that’s exactly where I find it later. I’m not constantly picking up after another person.

Those might sound like little things, but after spending my entire adult life living with other people, I’ve discovered how much I appreciate them.

And the funny thing is, I don’t feel like I’m missing anybody being there. I’m perfectly happy in my own company.

I’m Not the Only One

When I started reading about this, I realized how common it is. According to federal statistics cited by AARP, about one in three older women lives alone, and women are more likely than men to stay single after a divorce or loss.

Yet when I looked for stories about women who actually enjoy it, I mostly found safety tips. Lock your windows. Install a doorbell camera. Be careful.

Safety matters. But I couldn’t help noticing how little there is about the other side of the story, the freedom and the peace.

Alone Isn’t the Same as Lonely

I don’t want to pretend loneliness isn’t real, because it is. In that same AARP survey, two in five people aging on their own named loneliness and isolation as the hardest part.

The same survey found that friendship matters a great deal to them, while romance is a maybe. That tells me something. Being on your own doesn’t have to mean being on an island.

For me, the difference seems to come down to choice. Quiet that I chose feels peaceful. Quiet that happened to me would probably feel very different.

What I’m Paying Attention To

I don’t have this all figured out, but here are a few things I’m trying to be intentional about:

• Making my home feel good, because it’s where I spend most of my time.
• Cooking real meals instead of grazing over the sink.
• Keeping a few people on my calendar, so my solitude stays a choice.
• Noticing the difference between peaceful quiet and restless quiet.

If you’re living on your own, by choice or by circumstance, here’s something to think about: what surprised you most?

I’m sharing what I’m learning about fitness, confidence, and building a life I love in my 50s, one experiment at a time. I hope you’ll stick around.