Walking into a restaurant and asking for a table for one definitely felt strange. It was like I had broken some unwritten social rule. In a culture where we are constantly connecting, being in public alone tends to be feared. You don’t want to feel judged, or worse, feel pitied. I felt a little out of place surrounded by pairs and families, but I grew to embrace it. 

That unease I felt stemmed from the phenomenon FOMO (fear of missing out): the feeling that something better must be happening without you. Yet, I soon learned it shouldn’t be something to dread, but to welcome. 

Sitting there, I couldn’t stop wondering what people thought. Did I look lonely? Out of place? Was I supposed to scroll on my phone to look busy?  Did they think I got stood up? Was I missing something important or exciting?

For me, this apprehensiveness tends to happen in many different scenarios. I find myself endlessly scrolling for absolutely no reason, just to look the slightest bit occupied. Society has wired us to believe that we have to constantly be doing something, as if that’s a sign of success. But from my experience, I learned it’s okay to not. 

My waiter asked me if someone was joining me, and I said no. Initially, I thought she would judge me or question why, but she didn’t. Instead, she handed me a singular menu and smiled. After that, something shifted. I realized that people truly didn’t care about what I was doing. So, I ordered my meal, put my phone face down, and peacefully watched those around me. 

This is where JOMO crept in: the joy of missing out. I grew to be totally fine sitting there by myself. I enjoyed my meal in solitude. Couples and families around me were sharing appetizers, and conversations buzzed throughout the restaurant, but I sat there quietly. I wasn’t worried about what was happening without me; I was content in my own company––and hey, at least I got the salsa all to myself.  

Eating alone often gets a bad rap. However, according to OpenTable, solo dining in restaurants in the US has risen by a staggering 64% since 2019.

Learning to be alone isn’t about rejecting any sort of connection; it’s about choosing presence over other pressures and taking your time back. There’s a kind of confidence you gain when sitting by yourself and being at peace in your own company. 

It definitely was unlike any dining experience I’ve had before, but for some weird reason, it was liberating. When I arrived home, I was in a better mood than before. Choosing to be alone has shown real benefits. Voluntarily choosing to be alone is proven to make you a more creative and collaborative person. 

Without anyone else to talk to or entertain, I was able to sit with my thoughts, enjoy the ambience of the restaurant, and maybe even eavesdrop on conversations around me…   

Don’t get me wrong, community is extremely important, but we rarely allow ourselves to be alone; that’s why it can feel a little awkward. Yet, the art of being alone isn’t necessarily loneliness; it’s self-assurance, one quiet meal at a time. 

So, next time, take yourself out to lunch. Put your phone down and order what you want. I challenge you to try it, notice how good it feels to just be.