A Table for One, Please.
Doing something small and feeling something big.
Right on the path of remembering to ‘just live’…
I made a spontaneous decision to go to Verona last weekend.
I craved romance. Something new. Something intimate.
Something to do just for the sake of doing it.
I’ve wanted to visit Verona since I played Juliet in a school play.
Go to ‘Juliet’s house’ and go on ‘her balcony’.
I’ve been all over Italy… a country I go to often… but somehow Verona never happened.
It became one of those places I kept saving… waiting for the right moment, the right person, and the right reason…
But last week, I realised:
I’m the reason.
I’m the person I can do this for…
I can take myself somewhere I’ve wanted to go since I was a teenager…
Just for love.
That’s meaning enough.
And so I went.
My best friend joined me on Saturday, which added even more joy and deeper meaning to the weekend and my first time in Verona.
It’s not the first time I’ve done something alone.
I go to movies, museums, concerts, brunch/lunch and theatres.
If it’s between going alone or not going at all… I’ll always choose to go.
It’s a habit I’ve built over the years.
Something I’m genuinely proud of.
Something I quietly admire in myself. Truthfully speaking.
Even in a relationship, I’ve held onto that part of me.
But dinner out alone? I have done it often during work trips or trips for pleasure, but it still feels like the most challenging.
Maybe because, at night, most tend to be with someone or in groups.
Especially on a Friday night in a city.
Still… I did it.
There’s something about sitting at a table alone.
In a way, it feels romantic.
You get yourself ready, make your way over to the restaurant and ask for your table… for one.
There’s a strange little excitement that comes with it.
And it’s also a little awkward.
A little brave.
A little… magical!
It feels a bit like a first date.
But with yourself.
It’s a first-date feeling you give yourself.
You order exactly what you want. You tell yourself you deserve whatever you crave.
Nothing is too much. Nothing is too little.
You drink more slowly (you really do).
You notice the music. The way the napkin is folded.
The brand of the utensils.
The details on the plates.
How the waiters interact.
The couple in the corner.
Two people who do look like they are on a first date.
The family at the next table in mid-argument.
You don’t scroll. (Well… maybe a little.)
You let your mind wander. You look around. You let your thoughts flow.
You taste every bite more deeply.
And you realise just how much of life you sometimes miss when you’re always talking, planning, and rushing.
Don’t get me wrong… I’ll always prefer to experience life with people I love.
Good things are better when shared. Life is better when shared.
But sharing it with yourself counts too.
Sharing it with the moment. With the waiter. With the strangers around you.
That’s a kind of rarer magic I am grateful I didn’t miss.
I could have stayed in and ordered room service. There is something magical about that, too, sure. But it is also safe.
I am glad I chose the challenge.
I am glad I went to the restaurant that I wanted to try.
I do think that taking yourself out, especially for something as intimate and overstimulating as dinner, shifts something in you.
Dinner alone is different from lunch, or a coffee, or even a museum visit.
It’s more vulnerable.
But it’s also more grounding.
It’s not better than sharing it with someone you love.
But it’s not worse either.
It’s just different.
And sometimes… different is one of the most beautiful parts of life.
I’m glad I took myself out.
I’m glad I had that one night with myself.
I’m glad I had two beautiful, quality days with my best friend. I’m so happy she came.
And I am proud I gave myself Verona, even if it almost meant doing it alone.
Oh, and after dinner… I got myself ice cream on my detour walk back to the hotel. Falling in love with each street I ended up on.
I’m glad I treated myself.
Sometimes just existing is enough of a reason to deserve it.
I highly recommend treating yourself.
It doesn’t have to be a trip or dinner.
It can be something small. Something you do just because you want to. Just because you love it. Just because you deserve it for no reason at all.
Get the ice cream.
Open the wine you were saving alone.
Light the new candle on a night with yourself.
Buy the book.
Commit to that play ticket you keep putting off.
It makes a difference.
Because when you do something meaningful for yourself… even something simple… it instantly becomes magical.
