Much like solo traveling, the concept of eating alone often leaves people puzzled… and somehow, offended?!

“Go out to eat alone? Are you crazy???”

“Ew, cringe… I would never!”

“Aren’t you embarrassed?”

“Do you not have friends?”

“You actually like to eat alone?”

And…I’m not sure how, but I kinda get it.

You see, eating alone is second nature to me now. I don’t raise an eyebrow at it or feel any embarrassment or dread. In fact, it’s something I genuinely look forward to, whether it’s planned or spontaneous. It’s almost meditative for me. But I haven’t always felt that way.

For a long time, eating alone wasn’t even a thought because I had never really seen it done. Looking back at my college years, I can say with some certainty that you would never catch me dining out by myself. There was just no way. That wasn’t what was considered appropriate or normal at the time.

If brunch or dinner came up, I was texting my friends. Or they were texting me. Or someone would text the group chat to let us know when we were going to get picked up. We were picking each other up for takeout or piling into cars to sit down at a restaurant…or in the case of my bestie and I, we were grabbing supermarket sushi and sitting in the parking lot of our job to eat it. And if it wasn’t friends, it was family. My mom, maybe, or my sister if she was in town. But never once did the idea of eating alone cross my mind in a real way, let alone appeal to me.

Not until I moved to Japan.

Moving to Japan changed me in more ways than I expected. It taught me how to be alone, but more specifically, how to enjoy eating alone. I’m not sure if “lesson” is the perfect word, but it fits. I was in a place where I didn’t have anyone to call for a last-minute dinner. No post-work meetups. No one to grab sushi with on a random Thursday.

Even though I had to adjust to that reality, nothing about it felt forced. At first, yes, there were moments of discomfort. I’d walk into a restaurant and feel the eyes on me, or think I did. I’d wonder if I looked sad. Lonely. Out of place. You name it. But that faded..and quickly turned into moments of peace.

In its place, something deeper settled in. Me taking myself out. Me getting to know myself over a mouthwatering meal in some quiet corner of Japan, my new home.

The more I did it, whether lunch, dinner, dessert, or coffee, the more I craved it. It became a ritual. A form of care. A way to pause and reconnect. It became peace in a noisy world (and my noisy ass brain).

No, eating alone isn’t for everyone. But I believe if you’re open enough and give it a real chance without self-judgment, you’ll walk away grateful you did.

And no, you don’t need a whole tripod to get little photos or videos of you dining (if that’s your goal). Use a small phone stand, or better yet, rest your phone against the wall or against the utensil holder at your table if you want less people to notice. If you’re curious what eating alone actually looks like in practice, feel free to scroll and enjoy the photos of me fully romanticizing the experience.

How to Master the Art of Eating Alone

If you’re still feeling uneasy about eating alone for the first time, or even the second, here are a few of my favorite ways to ease in:

Choose Your Seat Intentionally

This one is small, but powerful. I’ve noticed that sitting at the bar often signals you’re open to chatting or being social (whether or not you are). It’s almost an unspoken “rule”. And while that can be the case, it’s rarely the vibe I’m after.

Unless I’m feeling extra extroverted, I usually skip the bar and ask for a table to myself. A little corner booth or window seat gives me the space to just be. It’s the perfect setup for people-watching, journaling, or sitting in silence with my thoughts.

There’s no right or wrong choice here. Just be clear about what you want from the experience, and pick a seat that matches that energy.

People Watch

Aside from savoring the food and enjoying my own company, this is one of my favorite things to do while eating alone. Trust me: this is prime time for people watching. NOT in a creepy way…I am not telling you to stare at the couple across the room for the entire meal. But casually take in your surroundings, come up with fun stories about the people you see. Whether you’re enjoying cold soba in Tokyo on a hot day or sipping Greek coffee on a balcony in Athens, people-watching is a beautiful way to connect with your environment.

You can learn so much just by observing. Body language. Social rhythms. Tiny cultural details. If you do make eye contact, a soft smile or nod goes a long way.

Finish That Book You Started Months Ago

Maybe don’t try this with sticky BBQ wings or a giant bowl of ramen. But in the right setting, like a cozy café tucked into a quiet street in Tokyo, this is magic.

You order your drink, take a breath, and pull out that book you’ve been meaning to finish for ages. Before you know it, you’re a few chapters in. The chatter around you fades into a warm blur. You’re exactly where you need to be.

Start With a Cafe, Not a Fancy Dinner

If you’re brand new to this and hesitant, I hear you. But hear me out. Start small and go to a local cafe on a weekday. Bring a laptop to work on a project, or just use that time to text an old friend and catch up. Don’t start out going to a fancy dinner on Valentine’s Day (yes, I’ve done that even when I was married bc we were in a LDR). Or to a sports bar on Super Bowl Sunday. These are both fine, but I really think you’ve gotta start small and ease yourself in before you get overwhelmed or uncomfortable too quickly. But once you’ve gotten over that initial fear and feel comfortable taking yourself out, you can work your way up to going out anywhere, anytime. Girl, you will be unstoppable!

Need some more inspo? Click here to watch me take myself out on Valentine’s Day in Vietnam or here to watch me take myself out on a solo sushi date in Tokyo.

Final Thoughts on Eating Alone

Loving the experience of eating alone doesn’t happen overnight. But when it clicks, it can become one of the most grounding, joyful parts of your routine.

You deserve moments that are just for you. Quiet rituals, slow meals, space to hear your own thoughts. Eating alone isn’t loneliness. It’s presence.

Try it. Bring a book. Order dessert. Sit by the window. And see what happens. Oh, and tell me about it!