hearthandhomewares

The First Bite of Discomfort The first time I asked for a table for one, I wanted the ground to swallow me whole. Couples toasted to anniversaries, families passed around plates of food, and I sat in the corner, hyper-aware of my own breathing. It wasn’t the meal that made me uneasy — it was the story I was telling myself. Everyone is watching. Everyone thinks I’m a loner. Everyone can see I don’t belong. But the truth? Nobody was really watching. Most people were far too focused on their...

There’s something brave about booking a table for one, buying a single ticket, or stepping into a place where nobody knows your name....