You know that friend who turns down Friday night plans to stay home with a book and somehow seems more content than everyone else at brunch the next day?
I used to think they were missing out, now I realize they’ve figured out something the rest of us are still learning: solitude isn’t lonely when you actually like who you’re with.
People who genuinely enjoy their own company have a different relationship with time.
They treat it like a non-renewable resource, which means they’re ruthlessly selective about what deserves their attention.
After having a kid, I got a crash course in this and, suddenly, every hour had weight.
The tolerance for time-wasting activities? Gone.
Watching friends who thrive alone, I noticed they’d been operating this way all along.
Here are eight things they never waste time on:
1) Seeking validation from strangers online
People comfortable alone don’t need 200 likes to confirm their vacation happened.
They use social media functionally—checking event details, messaging friends, maybe sharing something genuinely interesting.
However, maintaining an identity for strangers all day? Hard pass.
Research shows that excessive social media use correlates with increased anxiety and decreased life satisfaction.
Those who enjoy solitude already know this intuitively.
They don’t need studies to tell them that performing happiness is exhausting.
I learned this the hard way: After posting a “perfect” family photo that took 20 attempts, I realized I’d spent more time curating the moment than living it.
Now, my phone stays in my pocket.
The people who matter already know how I’m doing.
2) Attending events out of obligation
“You should come” isn’t a good enough reason anymore.
Solitude-lovers have mastered showing up when they want to be there, not because declining feels awkward.
This is understanding that halfhearted attendance serves no one.
Your energy is obvious, and people know when you’d rather be elsewhere.
The friend who only comes to gatherings they’re genuinely excited about? They’re fully present when they show up.
Worth ten people who came because they couldn’t figure out how to say no.
3) Maintaining surface-level friendships
They’ve learned that friendliness isn’t the same as access.
Honestly, not everyone deserves closeness.
This sounds harsh until you realize how much energy goes into maintaining relationships that never move past small talk about weather and weekend plans.
People who value alone time are selective about their inner circle.
They’d rather have three friends who know their actual thoughts than thirty who know their coffee order.
Deep connections predict wellbeing, while collecting acquaintances doesn’t.
4) Endless scrolling without purpose
They don’t use their phone as a pacifier for boredom.
When waiting in line or sitting on the train, they’re comfortable just existing; no reflexive reach for the screen, and no desperate need to fill every quiet moment with content.
This constant stimulation rewires our brains, making us less capable of deep thought.
Solitude-enjoyers protect their mental space like a resource.
Walking helps here; when my head gets loud, I walk without podcasts or music.
Just movement and thinking, and it lowers the mental noise without needing a screen.
Try it! Your brain might surprise you with what it comes up with when you stop force-feeding it entertainment.
5) Playing status games they don’t care about
They’ve opted out of competitions they never signed up for.
Who has the better job title, the nicer apartment, the more impressive vacation; these races only matter if you agree to run them.
People comfortable alone have usually examined what they actually value versus what they’re supposed to value.
Once you do this audit honestly, most status games reveal themselves as elaborate wastes of time.
Social comparison theory explains why we do this, but knowing the psychology doesn’t make it mandatory.
You can just… not participate.
6) Overthinking what others think
They’ve accepted that people’s opinions are mostly projection anyway.
Someone thinks you’re too quiet? That’s about their discomfort with silence.
Too independent? That’s about their fear of being alone.
Research on the “spotlight effect” shows we vastly overestimate how much others notice or care about our choices.
People who enjoy solitude have internalized this; they make decisions based on their own values, not imagined judgments.
After becoming a parent, I noticed how much mental energy I’d been spending on managing other people’s potential reactions.
Now, that energy goes toward things that actually matter and the relief is immediate.
7) Consuming content they don’t actually enjoy
They don’t finish bad books or continue watching shows that bore them.
Sunk cost fallacy keeps most of us consuming content we stopped enjoying three episodes ago.
Life’s too short for entertainment that feels like homework, yet this extends beyond media.
They leave conversations that drain them, skip articles after the third paragraph if the point isn’t landing, and unsubscribe from podcasts that became background noise.
Their consumption is intentional.
Every input is chosen, not defaulted into.
8) Apologizing for their need for space
They’ve stopped treating solitude like a character flaw that needs explanation.
“Sorry, I need some time alone” becomes “I’m taking some time for myself.”
No justification, and no elaborate excuse about being tired or busy.
Needing alone time is a legitimate personality trait; people who’ve embraced this schedule solitude like any other priority.
Saturday morning reading isn’t “free time” waiting to be claimed by someone else’s plans.
It’s already spoken for.
Final thoughts
Here’s what I’ve noticed: People who enjoy their own company are just playing by different rules.
They’ve figured out that most of what we’re told matters doesn’t actually matter.
The endless obligations, the performance of busy-ness, the cultivation of an image? It’s all optional.
Once you start protecting your time and attention like the finite resources they are, everything shifts.
You stop showing up places you don’t want to be, maintaining relationships that drain you, and consuming content that doesn’t add value.
The space you create fills with things you actually chose, such as books you want to read, projects you care about, and thoughts you have time to finish.
The irony? When you stop chasing connection and start enjoying your own company, you become someone others actually want to be around.
