The Bliss Living Alone - I Set the Tone, Temp and the TV

By someone who has mastered the sacred art of shutting the door and exhaling like I just ran for my life, let me just say it boldly, confidently, unapologetically: LIVING ALONE IS BLISS.

Mind you, it took me decades to get here. For the most part, I have always lived with others. I grew up in a big family, then had college roommates and live-in boyfriends, followed by a husband and two stepchildren, and eventually our own child. One year later, a separation/divorce and a separate house with my baby, and later on my brother moved in. Do note that my son has never been included in this headcount. He is my other half and could live with me forever, BUT he is now grown and on his own (sigh). See post My Son, My Favorite Person, My Soulmate In This Life.

Except for him, living alone (especially after the last boyfriend I had) at this stage in my life is DOUBLE BLISS. Something I never thought about, ever. And honestly, I don't think I will ever ever live with someone ever again...

With that said, living alone is not 'kind of nice'. Not 'peaceful sometimes'. No. It is the chef’s kiss, top-tier, unmatched, God-level version of perfection. And before anyone sighs dramatically and clutches their pearls with, “But aren’t you lonely?”, let me reassure you: ABSOLUTELY NOT. I have plants that respect me (my fiddle-leaf fig, particularly), weighted blankets that hug me back, a clean kitchen (& bathroom) that never judge if I neglect to unload the dishwasher or have a little toothpaste in the sink, and Oscar Wilde (my cat) who loves me and couldn't care less about my 2am cupcake decisions, crumbles and all. I’m living the high life.

The Quiet Hits Different

When you live alone, silence isn’t empty — it’s full. Yes, I miss my son cajoling around, but he is thriving (it was just us for a long time). The quiet is full of clarity. Full of calm. Full of the sweet, sweet sound of nobody asking you where anything is or for God's sake, "What's for dinner?" It’s the luxury of hearing your own thoughts without someone else’s noise drowning them out. It’s choosing when to talk, when to think, and when to just stare at the ceiling like a philosophical cat (looking at you Oscar Wilde). Quiet is not loneliness. Quiet is a gift and otroverts like me unwrap it daily. I get all the human interaction I need when I step out into the world, so being home alone, you guessed it, BLISS.

You Control the Vibe (at all times)

Living alone means you set the thermostat. Fans roar even in 30-degree weather because I have 6 layers of cover on my bed to keep me warm. The playlists are yours (The Cure, Kate Bush, Eminem, whoever). The lighting decisions? Also yours and always dim. You get to curate your home like a perfect little sanctuary built entirely around your personality. Want fairy lights in the bathroom? Done. Want a reading nook that looks like you’re hiding from society (because you are)? Absolutely. Want your home to smell like vanilla, cedar, and flavored bliss? Go ahead. Your home is always an extension of you, not a compromise, not a negotiation, and definitely not a shared battleground over throw pillows. Everything has a purpose and its place.

No Emotional Ping-Pong

Living with others means absorbing moods (this post is a must-read: The Subtle Art of the Narcissist), subtext, sighs, slammed cabinets, and weird energy that floats in like a toxic perfume. But living alone? Your emotional weather is the only forecast that matters. Sunny? Great. Moody and stormy? Enjoy it. Need to recharge without explaining it? Blessed be. There is something deeply healing about not having to perform, apologize for having boundaries, or explain why you don’t want to be social right now. You just…don’t. And it’s fantastic. 

Freedom is Wildly Underrated

Tiny freedoms become sacred:

• Eating cereal for dinner like a rebellious teenager with the refrigerator door open
• Reading until 3 a.m. without someone asking, “Are you coming to bed?” ugh
• Taking naps at random emotional intervals
• Leaving your laundry in the dryer for days because time isn’t real
• Dancing and singing in the kitchen with your earbuds in to Prince like the unhinged main character in Purple Rain

Freedom that comes from living alone isn’t loneliness. It’s autonomy. And autonomy is delicious.

Your Energy Has Room to Grow

You don’t realize how much energy people drain from you until you don’t have to share air with them 24/7. Living alone gives you space to reconnect with yourself — the real you. The one who doesn’t shrink or stretch to accommodate someone else’s comfort. You begin to enjoy your own company. You notice your moods, your rhythms, your quiet joys. You learn what actually makes you happy, not what you’ve absorbed from others. It’s not loneliness. It’s returning to yourself.

You Can Be Alone Without Being Isolated

Here’s the part critics always forget: Living alone doesn’t mean living without connection. You still have friends. You still socialize. You still laugh, talk, bond, and binge shows with people who refill your cup. You just don’t have to share a bathroom with any of them. Community isn’t weakened by solitude. If anything, living alone filters out the noise so the relationships you do choose become even richer.

Peace is a Form of Luxury

In a world obsessed with constant interaction, constant availability, and constant stimulation, choosing to live alone is an act of rebellion. It’s saying: “I need peace more than I need background noise.” “I choose myself.” “I function better when the world isn’t climbing on my nerves.” And that’s not sad. That’s powerful.

The Joy of Walking Into a Space That Loves You Back

Home becomes more than a place. It becomes a feeling. The feeling of safety, self-care, and sanctuary. You walk in, drop your bag, and everything is exactly where you left it. Nobody took your mug. Nobody used your last coffee pod. Nobody moved your cozy blanket to a place 'that makes more sense'. You created this peace. You maintain this peace. You live inside this peace. That’s not loneliness — that’s alignment. Enjoying life with cupcake-scented candles and coffee at midnight because you can. And if that’s wrong? I don’t want to be right.

"I have to be alone very often. I'd be quite happy to spend from Saturday night until Monday morning alone in my apartment. That's how I refuel." —Audrey Hepburn

"If I ever got married again, he'd have to live next door." —Carol Burnett

Love, Kate

Now, onto cupcakes.

Cupcakes with Coffee Style:

Cupcakes are tiny acts of joy—soft, sweet reminders that life doesn’t have to be big or perfect to be worth celebrating. They’re the reward after a hard day (mid-day, if necessary), the comfort during a messy one, and pure bliss in edible form. Paired with a good cup of coffee, they’re not just dessert—they’re a moment of pause, a little cheer, and sometimes, the reason you keep going.

Cupcakes with Coffee Style:
An afternoon coffee is permission — to sit, to breathe, to collect your thoughts like loose papers scattered across your mind. It’s a small ritual of self-trust, a reminder that even on busy days, you can choose a moment of stillness. And sometimes, that small, steady pause tastes better than anything else.

A little tidbit:

Central American family coffee growers are generational farmers who often run small to medium farms, focusing on high-quality, specialty coffee, investing in their communities and employees. They are crucial to the region's economy, with families like the Mejia (Honduras) and Calderón Martinez (Costa Rica) managing plantations and mills across generations, emphasizing education and quality for global markets. 

ENJOY!

Living alone isn’t about shutting the world out, it’s about finally letting yourself in. It’s choosing peace over pressure, quiet over chaos, and authenticity over performance. It’s the soft, steady realization that your own company is not only enough, but it’s also a gift. And once you’ve tasted this kind of calm, this kind of freedom, you stop apologizing for it. You stop explaining it. You simply live it blissfully, intentionally, beautifully alone…and never ever lonely.