solo socializing: a first step to building community.
last week, the atlantic’s february 2025 cover story made its debut: "the anti-social century" by derek thompson, and if you’ve seen any of my online yapping about people needing to go outside, you already know i had to write about it. if you haven’t yet read the article, i’d recommend pausing and doing so before going further – it discusses americans spending an increasing amount of time alone (without face-to-face socialization) and the associated impact on our communities and our country broadly. the article offers plenty of intriguing points to consider, but also some deeply flawed points (mainly the political portions) and missing points (BLACK people?????). rather than providing a synopsis of the article, i want to interrogate society’s general reaction to the “self-imposed solitude” thompson addresses, and share how/why i’ve been using solo socializing as a method for building an IRL community and a (relatively) healthy social life.
first off, the loneliness epidemic is very real – we’re hearing about it, we’re seeing it, we’re feeling it. as a curious person, i spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about the potential whys and what ifs behind the epidemic. there are some big whys – the widespread expansion of social media, increased anxiety/agoraphobia due to the pandemic, intense burnout, CAPITALISM. yes. fully aware of all those. but there are also some impactful what ifs i think more people are grappling with on a daily basis:
what if you’re ready to find community but don’t know a first step to take?
what if the people you’ve connected with most closely don’t live near you?
what if the people who do live near you who you’d like to hang out with are too tired to go out/too burnt out to go out/don’t like going out?
i’ve found general advice tends to focus on steering people towards medium to large gatherings of people – book clubs, dinner parties, etc., in search of the in-person interactions of the past. my question to this advice is always: is this helpful or relevant for the people who are ready to re-engage with the outside world right now but don’t have a community within reach that’s also ready to go back outside? i pose this question because i think we too often stop at diagnosing current behaviors and don’t move on to providing reasonable options for how to make helpful life changes. i pose this question because that was MY question. social media platforms appear to have not only exacerbated anxiety about in-person interactions (increased opportunities to be recorded without your knowledge or consent being high on the list, if not at the very top) but also the supposed “joy of missing out” and popularization of canceling plans, which thompson covers in his article. if everyone’s obsessed with not doing anything, what are you, the person who does want to do something or is ready to do something, supposed to do? my answer for the past few years has been to find a solo in-between, getting reacclimated with the world on my own in search of connection.
to start, i had to confront my own thoughts about wanting to do things on my own – was i feeling lonely? was i feeling sad? did i have to be alone? etc., largely due to society’s (and my parents’) gut reaction to people doing things on their own – projections about loneliness. despite the known increase in solo activities, we haven’t really become all that comfortable with seeing people do things alone without immediately assuming they’re lonely, sad, and/or have no friends. we generally appear to prefer a loneliness epidemic we can’t physically see. much more comfortable with people staying inside, where we can lament about their loneliness as something we desperately need to address while not being forced to actually witness it. when i discovered my interest in solo activities was less about being alone everywhere and more about stepping outside of my literal comfort zone, meeting new people, trying new things, and building a healthy relationship with vulnerability, i realized this could be my way of intentionally finding and building community.
i enjoy learning, pursuing my interests, meeting people, and sharing stories. a lot. so much so i do it by myself. movies, bars, restaurants, parties, travel…solo dolo. do i do them all by myself all the time? no, but i’ve definitely become more confident, a stronger communicator, and an overall more enjoyable person to be around by getting practice on my own.
by exploring the activities i’m interested in, i come into contact with people who are also interested in those activities. i’m able to brainstorm ideas for future solo activities, but more relevantly, these people become people i regularly see – some i get closer with, and we spin off to do completely different activities. repeated activities, including ones you do on your own (and even repeated sightings of you being solo!) are critical for building IRL acquaintanceships and friendships.
by taking initiative to research and plan and then actually follow through with the plans i’ve set for myself, i’ve become someone who can and does show up. not only for myself, but also for other people. it’s easier for me to make recommendations and not flake on other people or rejoice about canceled plans because i’ve practiced this with myself.
by venturing out on my own, i’m able to be more intentional about the interactions i have with the people around me and have become a stronger conversationalist through one-on-one practice. i’ll be honest, this was definitely the part that made me the most anxious at the start, even as someone who’s generally pretty comfortable in conversation – how will i know when/how to start a conversation? how do i end a conversation? what do you talk about? there’s no better teacher than practice, and repeated 1:1 interactions have helped me learn how to both initiate and end conversations with greater ease. for example, most times i go out to sit at the bar by myself, it’s not to read, listen to music, or block out the world; it’s to chat with the bartender. to find out what their story is. to ask them about the menu and if any of their drink creations are on it. could/do i do the same if friends are there with me? yes, but i’m much more likely to primarily speak to my friends versus the bartender in those instances. leading with curiosity about others gives me the boost of bravery i need to expand my world beyond the people i know. to ask the person sitting next to me at the movies if they’ve already seen the film before the lights go down. to tell my seatmate on the airplane i’ve read the book they’ve brought with them for the flight.
and one of my personal favorites: by attending parties on my own, i’ve learned we all have a role to play in making communal experiences enriching, and i enjoy my role. i’ve learned the importance of contributing to the fun i want to experience. i go to play my part – to interact with the DJ, to dance, to be the vibe other people can feed into.
lastly, there’s another piece of solo socializing i don’t see discussed nearly enough, but is probably the #1 reason i’ve pushed myself to be outside: SERENDIPITY. the opportunity for the amazingly unexpected to happen makes me endlessly curious and excited to see what the world has in store for me. ironically, it’s the waiting for the community everyone’s telling us to have and shaming ourselves for wanting to do things alone that’s preventing many of us from experiencing serendipity.
over the past 5 years, we’ve seen a large increase in both the creation and viewing of live streaming & reaction content by people who are sitting inside, again signaling people are not necessarily ready or interested in going outside, but would like some type of human interaction – people living around them without them having to go outside themselves to access it. guess what? you can replicate this outside. sometimes i go and read a book at a restaurant or sip a drink a sports bar because i like the noise and conversation around me. i like life happening around me in ways i cannot predict or control and i go outside on my own in order to experience that. doing things solo doesn’t have to simply be the thing we write articles and express sadness about, it can be the starting point to relearning and discovering what we enjoy about the outside world. being vulnerable enough to go it alone doesn’t have to equal living a life with no social interaction, but instead one that creates a bridge to reacquainting ourselves with the world and getting comfortable with in-person interactions.
it’s clear now, maybe more than ever, we need to build community, but i don’t think solo activities or solo socializing needs to be at odds with it, at least not to start. many people just need to know where to begin. we won’t be able to immediately go from silos to vibrant communities, which means we’ll have to accept the murky and awkward in-between. the trying. the dreaded CRINGE of it all. if we’re yearning for community, we have to match this yearning with vulnerability and commitment. it doesn’t have to be big steps. in fact, they should be small to start, but we need to start.
be the person who says yes to volunteering without needing to ask someone else if they’re going.
be the person at the front of a party simply because the music’s good and you want the DJ to know you’re feeling it.
be the person who shows up.
be the person who’s excited to show up.
even if you’re exploring the world by yourself, the world is waiting for you.
p.s. release the idea of going out with an express intent of finding “your” people, whether that be friends, potential romantic partners, or professional contacts. don’t try to solo-socialize “hack” your way into achieving your goals, especially if you’re already anxious about being outside. not only does it add pressure to any interaction, but it encourages you to perform, rather than simply live and be. i’ve found that leading with curiosity and compassion works for me again and again – wanting to understand people’s stories and hopefully share my own. that’s it. no pressure on me. no pressure on them. just an opportunity to fully live in the world outside of my apartment. the fulfilling community you’re looking for requires your bravery and vulnerability, and i hope you lean into them this year and beyond. i’ll be joining you.
