When I used to dance around my bedroom to Destiny’s Child and their Independent Woman single, I never really knew the concept of it, and instead just sang, shaking my thing as I did so. What even was an independent woman, I used to ask? Probably something I never thought I’d be… not the girl who never said boo to a goose, confronted friends, or stood up for what I believed was right or even knew how to work a washing machine and storage heater.
And even though now I still wouldn’t say boo to a goose, stand up for myself and my thoughts, I suppose now, that is me.
A woman, who lives on her own. Who does her own washing and cleaning (I went to write ironing but there’s no point lying here..), and knows that dinner won’t be ready cooked upon arriving home. And who buys herself what she wants, when she wants. And does what she wants, when and wherever she wants (within reason of course).
I am an independent woman.
And it’s all well and good clicking my fingers as I proudly try to persuade people that I’m sassy and totally a free spirit (I know, I’m still working on it) and inform people that YES, I do walk around the house naked, and yes, sometimes I will have ice cream for dinner. Oh and my fridge? I can fill it with just wine one week if I want to, because I can.
But sometimes, just sometimes living alone isn’t all what it’s cracked up to be. And you see things in a completely different light…
So here’s the truth, about living alone:
The freedom of heading to the supermarket and stocking up your trolley, as you pile in this and that and OOH offers, and decide that actually you want to have lots of chocolate in the fridge, just because. And that wine deal is fantastic, so let’s pick up five of those to have in the cupboards.
Until you get home. And realise that nobody is there to help you carry the bags up the mountain like flight of stairs..
Being the only one to take the bins out. Never, fun.
When you decide that eating pesto pasta for two weeks is totally fine, because you have a new dress that needs buying for a night out.
Setting your own rules. “Use the kitchen roll to dry things, it’s cleaner. And yes it is expensive, you don’t need to remind me. But it’s in my budget”.
Having to budget for everything. Like everything.
Feeling like an absolute hero when you have to decide for yourself to ignore the spider that is crawling on the ceiling near you. He will disappear, he will. Just stay calm at all times.
When you get the sudden urge for cheese at midnight, and know nobody will tell you otherwise to stay indoors. And so you go. Because you can. But that’s only if you’re stupid enough to never have cheese in your fridge at all times…..
Automatically telling yourself that someone is going to murder you in your sleep when you hear the faintest of sounds.
Washing your clothes has become such a tricky task. Because there’s never quite enough to fill up a load for a dark wash, a white wash or a towel wash, and it’s important to keep water levels down. But, those knickers, the nice knickers… I need them, actually, want them. I’ll just buy some more instead…
And don’t get me started on washing gel and conditioner. WHICH IS WHICH? And why are they jumbled together to confuse people?!
Having an overworked brain 24/7 because there’s no-one to vent about work too, or how so and so said this to so and so. Instead, we talk, we talk to the cat.
Being able to dance down the hallway, butt naked and think – actually know, that in the moment, you could give Beyonce a run for her money.
Finding something absolutely hilarious, but having no-one to laugh with and then deciding whether it’s a really in-joke, or if you almost look a little bit like a loser now.
When things start to go wrong. The fuse blows, or a lightbulb stops working. And you try your hardest to get by without it. Because, independence first. But, oh but, I really should get that lightbulb changed. *Phones dad*
Wanting sleepovers with friends. ALL THE TIME.
There is always wine in the fridge. Lots of half drank bottles too.
Nobody will judge you for what you do behind closed doors. So if you want to cry because you’ve ran out of ice cream, or want to sing so loudly to a song that your friends would frown up, or if you even want to cook dinner in the nude, then hell, YOU can. And nobody will look at you in any perculiar way.
Except the cat. But that’s a different story…
Oh, and having said cat as your housemate? Yeah, that’s the best bit of all!
“Sometimes, you just need a break. In a beautiful place.
Alone. To figure everything out.”