The Unexpected Gift of Living Alone

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Statistically speaking, I should be one of the lonely ones:

• Divorced

• Living alone

• No grandchildren

• Small family

• Introvert

• Retired

I check all the boxes for someone at risk of social isolation in later life.  And yet, lonely is not how I feel.

That’s not to say that the statistics aren’t concerning.  About a third of older adults report loneliness.  Women are particularly susceptible, being more likely to live alone for at least part of retirement due to longer life expectancy and less likelihood of remarrying after widowhood.

Being single isn’t new to me.  I’ve been divorced for over 10 years. By the time I retired, I wasn't suddenly learning how to live alone. I'd already built a life around it.  I realize that's different from losing a spouse after thirty or forty years of marriage. But the practical struggles are similar for all of us living alone.  There’s no one there to notice if something is wrong.  Every household problem is ours to solve or fix.  Every financial decision lands on our desk. When we’re sick, there’s no one to pick up the slack.

Of course, there are compensations.  I never have to watch a NASCAR race or football game again if I don’t want to.  Sole control of the remote is superficial, but satisfying.  Both sides of the bed are mine (unless there’s a thunderstorm, in which case Luna will be laying on my head).  Dinner is whatever and wherever I want it.

While conventional wisdom laments the challenges of living alone, I see an unexpected benefit.  There’s little in my life that I don’t have to make happen for myself – when I want company, I have to arrange it; when I want to travel, I have to plan it; when I’m feeling down, I don’t have a shoulder to cry on standing by.  I learned early on that handling those challenges meant getting out of my comfort zone.  And that friction – that little bit of discomfort – has turned out to be more of a blessing than a curse.

As a happy introvert, I could spend entire days reading, tinkering with projects, or simply enjoying my own company without ever feeling deprived. That's exactly why I can't leave socialization to chance. Left alone, I'd naturally drift toward solitude. So I deliberately build commitments into my life that require me to show up. I started with joining a golf class – somewhere to be at 6:30 every Wednesday evening.  That got me a little exercise, a better golf swing, and several new golf buddies.  It even led to me joining a group of ladies for golf outside class and starting another similar group for ladies closer to my side of town. 

And for those occasions when I am invited out, I removed the decision process – my rule is, just say yes.   Don’t think about it, don’t debate the options.  Lunch, dinner, party, golf outing, if someone invites me, I go.   And I never regret it.

That little bit of discomfort matters.  Our bodies, minds, and emotions are very set in their ways.  Growth and vitality come from challenging them.  Just these few habits – joining a scheduled event, joining or leading social groups, and saying yes to invitations – have helped keep me from slipping into seclusion and isolation. 

I don’t expect, nor do I want, to become a social superstar.  But it’s worth a little discomfort to ensure that my life, even living alone, is not lonely. 

I may check a lot of the boxes associated with loneliness in retirement.

But I don't have to become the statistic.