Table for One: Why I Stopped Waiting on Other People to Live My Life

On the dinners, concerts, matches, and trips I almost missed because the group chat was 'thinking about it'

Chile, let me tell you about the dinner I almost didn't go to.

There was a restaurant I had been eyeing for months. The kind of place where the menu makes you do a little dance in your seat. I sent the link to the group chat. Three of my girls. 'Y'all wanna go?' And what came back was the slow death of every plan I have ever tried to make.

'Maybe.' 'Let me check.' 'Girl I'll let you know.' 'What about next month?'

Reader. I went by myself. I put on my good lip gloss, drove over there, sat at the bar, ordered the thing I'd been eyeing, and had one of the best meals of my year. And on the drive home I had a whole come-to-Jesus moment about how many things I had been putting off because I was waiting on permission from people who weren't even thinking about it as hard as I was.

The waiting game is a tax

Here's the thing nobody tells you about being a grown woman with grown friends. Everybody is busy. Everybody has a husband, a kid, a job, a mama, a pile of laundry, a thing. Your friends are not sitting around waiting to do stuff with you. They love you. They just have lives.

And every time you wait on the group to align, you are paying a tax. The tax is the experience itself. The dinner you didn't have. The match you didn't go to. The concert that came through town and left without you because nobody could swing the Tuesday.

I started keeping a little mental list of things I had skipped because nobody could go. It was depressing. So I made a new rule.

The rule: if I want to go, I'm going

That's it. That's the rule. If something comes across my radar that I genuinely want to do — and the group can't, won't, or 'maybe' me to death — I just go. By myself. With my own self. As a treat.

This year alone I have done so many things solo that I used to think required a whole entourage.

I drove down to the Miami Open by myself. Sat in the stands, watched the matches I wanted to watch, ate when I was hungry, left when I was ready. No negotiating with anybody about which match we cared about. No waiting on a slow walker. No 'I'm tired, can we go.' Just me and the tennis. And I came home like I had been on vacation, even though I slept in my own bed that night.

I went to dinner alone — multiple times. Movies alone. A spa day alone. I went to the farmers market by myself and had the chocolate chip cookie of my dreams with nobody asking for a bite.

What I had to get over first

Now I'm not gonna sit here and pretend it was easy from jump. The first solo dinner felt weird. I kept checking my phone like I was waiting on somebody. I worried people were looking at me. I worried the hostess thought I was sad.

Spoiler: nobody cared. Nobody. The hostess sat me down and went on about her day. The couple next to me was so deep in their own conversation they didn't notice if I was a person or a houseplant. The bartender was nice because bartenders are nice.

The whole 'everybody is watching the woman alone' thing? That's a story you tell yourself. Out in the actual world? People are watching their own plates.

The shift that happened

Once I got over the awkward, something clicked. I started liking my own company. Like, really liking it. I started planning solo dates with myself the way I would plan a date with somebody I liked. I'd pick the spot, dress up, show up on time.

And the people in my life noticed. My friends started saying, 'I love that you just do stuff.' My family started telling me I seemed lighter. I was lighter. Because I wasn't carrying the weight of all those almost-plans anymore.

I'm not saying don't do things with your people. My village is everything to me and we still go hard together. What I'm saying is: don't let your life sit in somebody else's inbox waiting on a reply that isn't coming.

Your starter list, if you need one

If you're new to this, you don't have to start with a solo trip across the country. Start small. Start local. Start with something you'd genuinely enjoy if a friend were with you.

A nice dinner. A matinee. A concert. A class. A museum. A spa appointment. A walk on the beach with a coffee. A drive somewhere pretty. A sporting event. The bookstore for two hours with no agenda.

Pick one. Put it on your calendar. Don't text the group. Just go.

The Rich Out Loud truth

Living your richest life is not about a destination. It's not about how many people are in the photo with you. It's about not letting your life sit in 'maybe' because you're waiting on three other women to confirm. Your life is happening right now. The dinners, the matches, the concerts, the trips — those are happening right now.

The richest version of you is the one who shows up for herself, even when nobody else can come.

So pick the thing. Put on the lipstick or lip gloss. Take yourself out.

Go live your richest life OK and we’ll chat soon. 💋

-Tiah