Florence made me a lone wolf.
Living in a foreign place with only eight other friends really pushed me to go off on my own. Not that I didn’t love them, but I desired to break from the group.
Florence exposed me to the idea that I actually need my space, something I couldn’t fathom in Waco surrounded by all of my friends who all lived a 5 min. drive from me.
So after learning “spazio” (space) is good for me, I acted on it: I took myself out on my very first me-date.
I went to an American diner and ordered a hot dog, it was a desperate and terrible decision. I sat in my favorite piazza and listened to an Italian man sing in broken English. I watched the sun set over the Arno river as I ate the best gelato in the whole wide world.
It was amazing.
I hadn’t ever basked in my own presence before, broke down my thoughts and actions and dreams and passions in my mind. I had never been bold or secure enough to be seen in public alone, and it was so utterly freeing.
Now I date myself all the time.
Last week I had an incredibly stressful day at work, it forced me to wear many hats and speak to many people about many things. It was exhausting all across the board, and it made me fed up with the entire human race.
So I left work 5 minutes early, went to a random Thai restaurant down the road from The Bitty Burrow, and requested a table for “ONE.”
I sat in a booth. In a corner. Alone. I spoke only to order my meal and thank the server who refilled my water. It was a moment of much-needed solitude and peace.
Me-dates are crucial to my self-care.
They make me calmer, quieter, more zen. They center my being on what matters most: who I am, how I love and what gives me life. They let me re-set my mind, body and spirit in a way when the chaos of this world bogs me down.
I wish I took myself on dates more often, that I had the time and money to do so. Unfortunately, those are luxuries I simply do not have often. But when they happen once in a blue moon, they make a happier, better me.