Comfortable in my own skin - and my own company.
Comfortable in My Own Skin — and My Own Company
There was a time when being alone felt heavy.
Not quiet, not peaceful — just loud in all the wrong ways.
Silence amplified doubts, empty rooms echoed questions, and evenings stretched longer than they needed to. In my early forties, I often confused being alone with being lonely, because for me at that time, they felt like the same thing.
But they’re not.
And learning the difference has been one of the most freeing lessons of my life.
Alone vs. Lonely
Being alone is a physical state. It simply means there’s no one else around.
Being lonely is emotional. It’s the feeling of disconnection — from others, from purpose, or even from yourself.
You can feel lonely in a crowded room. And you can feel deeply content in your own company.
Loneliness deserves compassion and attention. It’s not a failure or a flaw — it’s a signal. One that says something needs care, change, or reconnection.
In all honesty, when perimenopause kicked in, that’s when these feelings started. It really did mentally kick me in the pants.
When Loneliness Needs Tackling
If you’re feeling lonely, especially persistently, it’s important not to minimise it. A few gentle ways to begin tackling loneliness include:
Name it honestly. Acknowledging how you feel is the first step toward changing it.
Create small connections. A short walk with a neighbour, a regular class, a coffee with one person — connection doesn’t have to be overwhelming to be meaningful.
Reconnect with yourself. Journaling, therapy, creativity, or quiet reflection can help you understand what kind of connection you’re actually craving.
Seek support without shame. Loneliness is human. Asking for help is strength, not weakness.
Loneliness isn’t something to push through — it’s something to tend to. I think, that’s why in my ‘50s, I take a lot of joy in cultivating friendships. As you read this, somebody, somewhere, would love to hear from you. (Not the bam of an ex - just saying).
What Changed for Me
Somewhere along the way into my fifties, something softened.
I stopped needing constant noise. I stopped filling space just to avoid feeling empty. I started enjoying my own rhythm — slow mornings, tidy rooms, quiet evenings.
And with that came peace.
Real, grounded peace. (spoiler alert - it’s still here)
Not the kind that depends on circumstances or other people, but the kind that lives inside you.
It turns out there’s a kind of magic that comes with feeling undisturbed.
Decluttering — Inside and Out
Decluttering my home had a far bigger impact on my mental health than I ever expected.
Letting go of excess — things I no longer used, loved, or needed — created space to breathe. Clear surfaces became clear thoughts. Order in my home gently encouraged order in my mind.
And then I realised: sometimes life needs a declutter too.
Not just cupboards and drawers, but:
Commitments that drain you
Relationships that no longer align
Habits that keep you stuck
Noise that drowns out your own voice
Decluttering isn’t about perfection. It’s about intention.
The Joy of Your Own Company
There is deep joy in feeling comfortable in your own skin. I know I am lucky enough to have found it.
I am also lucky enough having the kind of friends I WANT to be friends with.
In knowing you don’t need to be entertained, validated, or accompanied to feel whole.
It doesn’t mean you don’t value people — it means you no longer abandon yourself when no one else is around.
Being at peace with your own company is not isolation. It’s self-trust.
A Hopeful Reminder
If you’re feeling lonely right now, please know this: it can change.
Not overnight. Not magically. But gently, steadily, with care.
And if you’re learning to enjoy your own company, let yourself savour it — without guilt, without explanation.
Peace is not boring.
It’s earned.
And sometimes, it’s the most beautiful thing you’ll ever find.