HOME ALONE

It’s taken time for Laura Jane Williams to enjoy living by herself. Here, she shares what she’s learned about building a happy solo home

Laura Jane Williams on going solo (and loving it!)

Ihave had many living situations in my adult life. I’ve lived with a boyfriend who I never saw because he worked nights and I worked days. I’ve lived in decrepit student halls with walls we could all talk to each other through. I’ve rented a room from a married couple, who were openly rude to me for almost two years. I’ve crashed on my parents’ sofa until they asked me to leave. And I managed a three-way house share with strangers who became friends. In my last relationship, we almost moved in together, but I backed out of cohabiting with a man who had a strict 5am wake-up call and spent 35 minutes on the toilet every morning. Now, finally, I live alone – and I love it. But it wasn’t an immediate love.

Not long after I settled into my edge-of-the-peak District semi, a friend gave me an updated edition of the

1936 bestseller Live Alone And Like It. Written by a 1930s Vogue editor, Marjorie Hillis, you’d think the advice about making a home of one’s own would be outdated, but I devoured it.

The thing is, as much as it’s my idea of heaven to live alone – nobody else’s unwashed pots! All stray hairs in the plughole are my own! The liberal execution of my emerald-green-velvet Pinterest dreams! – it can also be incredibly hard.

I suddenly need the skills to mow a garden, and I always forget which day the bin goes out. I could pass a full hour just staring out of the window with nobody to ask me what I’m doing. Because I work from home, days can slip by without my speaking to anyone. There’s nobody here to do nothing with. It can be lonely, and I can feel isolated.

‘NOW, FINALLY, I LIVE ALONE – AND I LOVE IT’

Reading Marjorie’s words (and I do think of her by her first name, like a wise and witty friend) made the process of learning how to live alone okay. Like yoga and conversational Italian, it is the practice I put in to my ‘home alone’ muscles that makes the reward of it so much sweeter. Working for the enjoyment of it doesn’t negate that. Putting in the effort to maximise the good in solo living is empowering.

What with women staying single for longer when they’re young, separating from their partners, outliving their spouses when they’re older and, like me, opting out of cohabitation completely, the Office for National Statistics reckons that over the next 20 years, the number of one-person households is set to top 10m. Inspired by my new buddy, Marjorie, I’d like to share all the ways I’ve found to survive, thrive and revel in it. We’re a growing army.

1

Taylor Swift once said that you don’t need a central romance to have a romantic life and, for me, it is true. ‘Myself’ buys me flowers, lights candles when the telly is on and keeps a lavender pillow mist spray by the bed. I cook dinners, eat at the table and use a cloth napkin instead of kitchen roll. Marjorie calls it ‘solitary refinement’. I call it dating myself.

2

Never close the door to your house without your keys in your hand. If you’re anxious, like me, take a photo of your hand on the door handle, too. When you are halfway down the M1 and panic that you didn’t lock it, just pull up the photo to calm your mind.

3

I once hit myself in the face with a hammer, while telling my friend Dan that I felt a feminist responsibility to do my own DIY. He told me my only feminist responsibility is to use my feminist cash to feminist-ly employ a professional. He was right. I now live by the rule that outsourcing jobs can be way more efficient than struggling to do them on my own (and badly). I have a local handyman on speed dial with pride.

4

This sucks, but people often won’t understand that you live alone, even in 2019. Some of them will pity you, and feel obliged to invite you to their family events or to tag along on trips. ‘Live alone-ers’ have to be demonstrably busy, because saying we’re fine isn’t enough. We have to be proactive about our social lives outside of family or our long-time-but-coupled-up friends. We need other single friends. Which means…

5

Hobbies are key. An orchestra, a netball club, a WI meeting – Marjorie says we must do something. A hobby makes us interesting, but we’ll also start to see the same faces over and over, establishing a sense of community around ourselves. It can take time to build up to a hello, then a conversation, and eventually hanging out, but building a life takes time. That’s another thing I try to remind myself: I have to be motivated to engage with my world. A beautiful life for anybody, living alone or not, doesn’t just happen. We have to show up for it.

6

Know your neighbours by name. They might be the first people to spot if you don’t come home, will accept your packages when you’re out and, on the odd occasion, also happily help you zip up a dress you can’t reach the back of yourself.

7

If I lie in bed and hear a bump in the night,

I don’t stew in my own panic. I sit upright, turn on the light and own my power. If I really thought there was an intruder, I’d call 999, but, in my 33 years, it’s only ever been my imagination running wild. I don’t let that happen for longer than it has to.

8

Money. A single-person household means a single-person income, so every expense falls to us. I have a spreadsheet of my fixed outgoings, assign a budget for groceries, siphon off a small ‘Fun Fund’ for spontaneous spend and try to save as much as possible. If the car breaks down or the washing machine fails, there’s nobody to split the cost with, but it feels great to know that it doesn’t matter. I’ve got it covered.

9

Speaking of money, I’ve found a plethora of ways to invite people over cheaply. I have an open-door policy for family wanting a pit stop for a quick cuppa and biscuit, and keep a simple tomato pasta sauce in the freezer in case anybody stays for dinner. I always have a bag of my favourite balsamic vinegar crisps in the cupboard to serve with a cold glass of wine, too. They’re relatively small things that mean I always feel hospitable, and it is the law of attraction: I am ready for house guests, and so they seem to magically appear.

10

But if they don’t, I look at my diary. I make sure that, if the upcoming weekend is an unscheduled one, I have something pencilled in for the weekend after: a trip with friends, a drinks party, the theatre. That way, time at home is a luxury, because I’ll be out next week.

11

Peace and quiet is nice, but playing a podcast as you clean or the radio when you cook doesn’t half make you feel rooted in the wider world.

12

My friend Meg said about living alone: ‘Bloody enjoy it, because it won’t last for ever.’ The thing is, by finding the enjoyment in it as deeply as I have, I truly believe that, for me, it will. Living alone doesn’t mean having no relationships, but it does mean that the most potent relationship in my life is the one I have with myself. That’s not so lonely after all.

Our Stop (Avon) by Laura Jane Williams is out 8th August