All Single People Should Go To Concerts Alone
I went to a concert by myself for the first time in December of last year, 2016. I had gotten out of a relationship around end of September/early October, and I was kind of a mess. Way more of a mess than I could have imagined I would be, especially after making a decision I thought was right. Some shit just hurts like hell no matter what. I wanted to be alone, but I also couldn’t bare to be alone. The days were slow and steady, and the nights were absolutely miserable.
It was a lot. Lots of tears shed in the fetal position. Lots of tossing and turning and whispering my confusion out loud with no reply while trying to catch my breath and be strong for my lonely little self. Lots of voice notes recorded on my phone as a way of calming myself down and getting my thoughts just out there. I needed to get out and do things—sometimes with people, but mostly just around people. Alone, but not entirely alone.
I had started going out into nature by myself almost every day. I had been going to coffee shops alone to read surrounded by the energy and voices of other people. So when I saw one of my favorite country duos, Brothers Osborne, had a show on December 15 and couldn’t find anyone who knew them enough to want to go to the show with me, I was like, “Why not a solo date night, you PYT?”
This little moment of empowerment and fuck yeah came to me back when I was still hosting at my current restaurant, so I clicked over to Safari on one of the iPads and bought my single ticket during a Sunday brunch lull period.
And now going to concerts by myself is just something I do. I’ve been to a handful of small-venue shows (my favorite!) and one giant arena show (not sure if I’ll ever do that again because trying to get a lyft or uber with hundreds of other people during insane surge pricing while your phone is quickly dying is a nightmare). Small-venue shows are great, because they’re intimate and the people that show up to them tend to genuinely love music. There’s also endless history in so many Los Angeles venues that you can’t help but feel a part of it.
It’s so fun to get dressed up, feel hot, and know you’re taking yourself out. I admittedly love walking into a venue, scoping out the fella sitch, and seeing guys realize, “Yeah, I think that girl actually is by herself.” That isn’t to say I live to please men (hell no, y’all), but there’s no shame in feeling sexy and confident and noticing the heads you turn (as long as that doesn’t make or break your self-worth).
I will say, it may take a little while to feel truly in your body. To be able to wait at the bar, walk the room, stand alone, and move to the music without worrying about who's watching or what you look like. I know for me, like a lot of people, there's a certain level of comfort that comes with having a drink or my phone in hand, so I'll purposely get rid of everything to test my comfortability and learn to be in my body.
And then there's safety. I'm a smart person, and I handle myself well, but I make sure to always be careful of who asks to buy me a drink, watch my own drinks, know who I’m standing near, etc. I’m there to sip my whiskey, tip the bartenders so well they playfully beg me to “please hurry back” (ugh I feel you, my fellow service industry peeps), listen to truly fantastic artists, dance with myself, maybe get my flirt on, say yes or no to giving someone my number, and just feel good.
I think it’s at concerts by myself when I most appreciate my singleness. When I don’t crave having a man sitting up somewhere on a weeknight waiting to hear “Home safe” and “I love you.” Because, let’s be real, I daydream about that a lot. A lot, a lot. I miss calling someone “babe” and having someone to text all my goofy and mushy thoughts to. I miss having someone pull me in for a long, I-feel-so-grateful-for-this hug at the end of a long night at work. I want that, and I’ll have that again. But when I’m at a concert alone enjoying the music and letting my body move to it, I feel alive and empowered, and I realize that as much as I want someone to share my life with, there’s also so much life I want to experience on my own. There’s so much I want to try and fail at and be sad about and happy about and disappointed in and proud of. I want to kiss guys that light my soul on fire, as well as guys that make me crave other guys. I want both sides. Good and bad.
I want to be so full of life and varied experiences and heartbreak and happiness. I know that when I’m doing things I love and am proud of I have more love to give and more of a capacity to be proud of others. So, I’ll keep going to concerts by myself and experiencing life on my own. I’ll keep meeting people and dancing and filling myself up with different experiences. I’ll take in my alone time and appreciate it. But I’ll always keep the door open for other people to join me. Family, friends, lovers. Because it’s cool as hell to learn and experience things on your own, but there’s plenty of moments in life that will always be better, deeper, more meaningful, with the right someone(s) by your side.