Intentional Independence: Unaccompanied & Unapologetic

After a three month break from writing (catch up on everything you’ve missed in the latest blog) I’m back creating, like a leaky tap that’s finally burst under the pressure!

I’ve given the website a major revamp. Entered my “F**k it” era, letting go of the cringe and awkward vibes and posting spoken word poetry reels on TikTok and Instagram. I’m journaling again (something I haven’t done for years). And I joined Substack.

I’ve always been an all or nothing kind of gal.

Introducing Independently Yours — Intentional independence, solo adventures, and reconnecting with the person you are when no one else is around.

For some, solo’ism comes naturally. They ease into it without fuss. They pack a bag, book a flight, and don’t worry too much about what people will think, whether they’ll feel lonely at times, or where to look in a restaurant if there’s no one sitting opposite them.

Then there are others. Like me.

People who’ve come out of relationships, who aren’t used to being by themselves for long stretches. People who are so used to being the other half of some supposed whole that anything done solo feels like it can only be half enjoyed.

Those who ‘ve experienced a slow erosion of identity in the shadow of partnership or caregiving. The ones who have felt themselves disappear a little and are finally feeling ready to put themselves back together. Post-divorce, post-breakup, post-burnout, post-baby, post- whatever.

There’s a stigma around solo’ism.

Anyone who is or has been single lately knows it all too well. It’s this deeply embedded, still-alive idea that doing anything alone—dining out, going to the cinema, riding a train, moving to Spain—must mean you’re lonely. And if you’re lonely, you must be sad.

That assumption hangs over people like me. A grey cloud ready to shitstorm all over what could be a f**king fantastic day.

Because we’ve been taught to believe it.
That alone = lonely.
That alone = sad face emoji.

I believed it too.

It took a pile of “You’ve got this, single person!” books, and some serious perseverance to even begin testing the waters of doing things solo.

To push past the “it’s only me, so why bother?” mindset. To feel brave enough to book something without waiting for someone else to join me.

I ended up writing a book about it: about reimagining single life, challenging the tired tropes around being alone, and hopefully inspiring anyone who’s feeling disheartened by their solo status to feel empowered instead.

One day, knee-deep in edit number 6,342 (as Ruby Dhal wisely put it on her Insta, “Perfectionism is the enemy of progress”), I found myself re-reading something—a note, to myself and my readers. A reminder that self-dating, self-empowerment, intentional independence, shouldn’t only be reserved for our single seasons.

Because here’s the truth: Reclaiming your independence, your identity, your confidence, none of it is just for single people.

It isn’t just single people who struggle with being alone, or who need to re-learn how to be okay in their own company.

There’s also the person who’s been married for twenty years, so deeply entwined with their partner they’re not sure how to rediscover themselves while still in the relationship.

I could go on and on with examples.

But the point is: we’re not alone in not always feeling confident doing things alone.

That’s where (I’m hoping) Independently Yours comes in.

I’ll be sharing my journey —and stories from others—for anyone who needs a little solidarity in their ‘intentional independence’ journey.

Whether you’re single, coupled, somewhere in between, recovering from hustle culture or just trying to reconnect with yourself, this space is for you.

I don’t have all the answers, but I have been on this journey.

I’ve lived in the waiting room—waiting for someone to come with me, validate me, join me. It’s cramped in there. And honestly? It’s soul-destroying. And that disempowering feeling didn’t only shrink me when I was single. It followed me into relationships too (but that’s a story for another day).

It was so easy to believe the story that doing things alone is something to endure, not something to celebrate. That we should never encourage of ourselves, or choose at times, to do a thing alone.

It was so easy to hide behind fear, waiting for someone else to say, “I’ll come too.” And if they couldn’t, forgo going altogether.

I waited, a lot. For friends, the partner, the “right time.”

I missed gigs, films, trips—because no one else was available, and I took that as a sign to stay home. But that mindset slowly eroded my confidence.

Now? I seek those moments out.

Because I decided: if not now, when?

Independently Yours isn’t really a newsletter. It’s a reminder that you’re allowed to belong to yourself. It’s my reminder too.

If that sounds like you, you’re in the right place.

Independently Yours,
Amy