Recently two Instagram stories caught my eye on the same evening. Both were posted by women are both entrepreneurs. They also both happen to be single. One of them had posted several videos of her attempting to learn how to do a handstand. When she mastered it she posted a story about how she was telling her followers because she lives alone and has no-one else to share her win with She said this with a bit of a shrug and a laugh and it made me smile because I so relate to that feeling of accomplishing something and wanting to immediately say ‘Look what I can do!’ and not being able to because I live alone.

The second Instagram Story was an emotional one by someone who had had a bad week at work and had been on the receiving end of some nasty comments. The video wasn’t about that though. It was about how tough it can be sometimes to not have a go-to person to speak to after a bad day at work, especially if you are also self-employed and don’t have colleagues who know exactly what you are talking about without having to explain. The video made me well up because I have been there myself. It can be isolating to be single and living alone while also being your own boss, especially when something goes wrong.

Both these videos got me thinking about who single people turn to when they want to share either something trivial or something painful when they live alone. When my parents used to get home from work, they would share news from their day with each other over tea (what we call dinner up here in the midlands). Sometimes they would share big things such as when they were at risk of redundancy or that they had heard a family member was sick, but more often than not they simply shared little details from their day; dad’s boss being a dickhead again, mum talking about getting a headache, terrible traffic, the fact we were running low on milk etc.

I imagine these conversations happen up and down the country between couples every day. They also, of course, happen between flatmates as well if the flatmates like each other enough to share what’s on their mind. But when you live alone, you don’t have anyone to tell all that kind of stuff to, or at least you might not have one go-to person who hears all of your news no matter how small. So who do we tell?

Before the pandemic, I would often have stuff on in the evenings. I would dash from work to the pub or out of dinner or to a coffee shop and whoever I was meeting would be on the receiving end of my thoughts on whatever had happened that day. I would then listen and hear about their day and then we would put the world to rights over a cocktail or a latte. At the weekends I would have more plans, and more often than not I would have to make sure to factor in some time on my own to recuperate my energy. I have also always been prolific sending Whatsapp messages to friends who don’t live nearby and have always enjoyed sharing on social media.

When the pandemic hit, my whole world changed like everyone else’s. Gone was the dashing about London. Gone were the book clubs, work events, dinners and drinks. I was suddenly back in a tiny village and my only means of escape was my bike (or asking my dad for a lift like a teenager). My phone – and also my laptop for Zoom – became my lifeline. It was my connection with the outside world. I was also constantly anxious that I might get bad news or that someone might need to speak to me immediately because they were struggling so I took to walking around everywhere with my phone in hand, carrying it everywhere even to the loo or when I went to make a cuppa.

I became even more reliant on it when I moved out and we were plunged into two further lockdowns. I had no-one to talk to in person about the ins and outs of my day and was also struggling with my mental health (this was prior to my ADHD diagnosis) so I became even more addicted to my phone. I was constantly available to my friends who might need me and I was constantly craving connection whether that be a Whatsapp message, a DM on social media, a voice note or an unexpected phone call. I was stressed, on edge and found myself doom-scrolling or going down wikipedia rabbit holes into the early hours. A few of my friends did phone detoxes during this time, and I looked on in awe. I knew it would probably help but I just didn’t feel able to because I already felt so cut off.

Now lockdown has eased here in the UK, and I’ve had the first dose of the vaccine so I’m feeling more confident about doing stuff, I can feel my anxiety easing – and with it my reliance on my phone. In the last week, I’ve seen family on a couple of occasions, spent an evening with a friend in the local pub and on Saturday I travelled to Birmingham and spent around 10 hours socialising for a friend’s birthday, which was amazing. I did use my phone to take a lot of photos but I stayed off social media because I was too busy chatting, laughing my head off and generally having a great time. Getting to spend so much time in the company of others this week has made the time I have been alone really nourishing rather than isolating. I even took myself off on a midweek adventure on the train to a local beauty spot where I walked and swam. I didn’t even listen to a podcast for company. It was perfect.

Aside from the pandemic easing, I have also made some other changes for my own wellbeing. To aid me getting to sleep, I’ve implemented a new routine where I put my phone to bed in the spare room an hour before I go to bed myself. I then usually wake up at 7:30am, then read a book or magazine for a bit with my coffee before attending Writer’s Hour to do my morning pages (three pages of free writing in my journal). This means I don’t go and get my phone until after that ends at 9am. It’s making such a difference. I feel so much calmer and I love starting and finishing my day doing the things I really love. Even if I didn’t pick up my phone during Writer’s Hour or while reading, just having it nearby was distracting because I would be battling the urge to pick it up or noticing if a new message came through. Now the writing is flowing much better and I can really pour what I’m feeling onto the page. I am also leaving my phone in rooms while I go and do something else now that I feel much more connected to the real world again.

I had already implemented these changes when I listened to a podcast episode with career change coach Selina Barker, whose book Burnt Out: The exhausted person’s guide to thriving in a fast-paced digital world was recently published. She talks about phone addiction in the podcast and how she hadn’t realised she was addicted – and the difference that dealing with this addiction has made to her energy levels and happiness. It’s a good listen if you struggle with feelings of burn out or find it hard to manage your energy.

I also read this interview with Becca Caddy, whose book Screen Time: How to Make Peace with Your Devices and Find Your Techquilibrium came out this year. She says: “Hiding phones and deleting apps can deliver short-term benefits, but research has shown that, in the long-run, it’s a much better idea to replace unhealthy habits with new ones that offer similar rewards but are more wholesome overall. So instead of dramatic changes, it’s about making small shifts that are personal to you and your needs. For example, in Screen Time I talk about switching from ‘scrolling through Instagram’ to ‘calling a good friend’ to satisfy your need for connection.”

She also said that research shows you “can feel comfort and connection” from chatting with friends and family on WhatsApp, and “effectively de-stress” by doing things playing video games so technology definitely isn’t all bad – and that’s definitely not the point I’m making. Like everything it’s about finding balance and while I’m starting to feel better, I’m not going to beat myself for how much I relied on my phone during such unprecedented times. There were so many amazing moments that wouldn’t have been possible without technology and as someone who is single and lives alone, I am so grateful that we went through this in a time when we had access to such technology. Imagine if it had happened 40 years ago?

Now I know there are plenty of people who are coupled up who have smartphone addictions but I do think living alone does just add another layer to it. What do you think? I would love to hear from people who live alone and aren’t totally reliant on their smartphones. How do you feel and stay connected? How did you cope in the pandemic? Let me know by email or in the comments below!

Leave a comment

Have a lovely week,

Nicola

Twitter: @Nicola_Slawson | Instagram: @Nicola_Slawson

What made me think

I can’t find a partner. How can I learn to love my single life?

This is the Guardian’s agony aunt column yesterday and it caught my eye for obvious reasons. I personally would have focused much more on how to embrace being single if I was the one writing this but there are some great comments under the piece if you scroll down and this paragraph in the actual response stood out: “We’re raised as aspirant monogamists; coupling up is what our species is programmed to do. That doesn’t mean we have to live like swans, mating for life. It can be hard to take a step back from harsh judgment and look at our lives with a degree of perspective. You’re in that place now, buried under the burden of your expectations.”

Things you should check out

• A new agony aunt column went out this weekend. It’s all about how to actually practice self-love and be your own best friend. Subscribe now (just £1 a week!) to give it a read:

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• Not Everyone Is Born To Partner – by Marianne Power. I shared the quote she is talking about recently so this was good to read.

• Dear Dolly: 'I'm 27 and single, and I can't stand dating apps – heavy relate to this line: “Everything about them makes me cringe.”

• I Met My Best Friend On An App – Inspo for anyone struggling to find new friends in adulthood.

• Learning about attachment types taught me all I need to know about dating – I think the attachment types are interesting to look at even if you don’t want to date.

• You want to travel, but friends and family can’t. Here’s how to choose your adventure – Useful solo travel tips.

• 'More stars than grains of sand': how reading the Stoics helped me through a family crisis – came across this recently and found it interesting.

• Most Britons cannot name all parts of the vulva, survey reveals – depressing.

• I’m single and childless at 40 and I’m sick of others pitying me – I’ve got more money than them and look younger too – The tweet about this article made me cackle:

  Emma John @em_john

  I'll be busy the rest of the day apologising to my friends and explaining how headline writers take stuff you wrote tongue-in-cheek entirely out of context

  May 27th 2021

  429 Retweets10,603 Likes

Words I love

Sure, there were bumps, and not every moment felt fantastic, obviously, but at the end of it, this is our one life and I would not stay in a situation out of fear. Fear of being alone. Fear of not being able to survive. To stay in a marriage based on fear feels like you’re doing your one life a disservice.

– Jennifer Anniston on letting go of her fear of being alone (and because I loved watching her in the Friends reunion this weekend)

About me

nicola_slawson

A post shared by @nicola_slawson

For those who don’t know, I’m Nicola Slawson, a freelance journalist who lives in Shropshire, UK. If you would like to support what I do, please consider subscribing to be a paid supporter of The Single Supplement. If you would prefer to make a one-off contribution, you can also buy me a coffee, here’s the link to my Ko-Fi page. Follow me on Instagram and Twitter.

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