Why I Don't Feel Bad About Spending a Day at Home

Sometimes I have blog post ideas planned out, but not entirely fleshed out, for weeks and weeks ahead of time. I let them sit in a notebook while I mull over what I actually want to discuss and decide whether or not there is enough I can say or ramble about when it comes to a certain topic. And then sometimes I just lay in bed on a Sunday afternoon and make the decision that that pure act of laziness could become an entire blog post. And thus, this post was born.

I am a homebody by nature. I like being home, I like my stuff, and while I like having the option to do things all of the time (hence why I chose New York City as my new home), I like them to be just that sometimes: options. Not requirements, not absolute must-have moments where I spend all of my free time outside of the office doing something. I like knowing that there are things to do but also that I have the freedom to choose not to do them if that's the type of day I've chosen for myself.

I used to feel forced to be "busy." That's another blog post itself that will be coming as soon as I can think about those times without getting queasy and curious about how I even functioned as a proper human being. I love social media and the internet, but sometimes it makes me feel like I constantly need to be doing something and showing that I'm doing something. I don't subscribe to the idea that in order for me, personally, to live a full and happy life that I need to spend every waking moment trying to do something. But that's me, not Sally Jo from down the block or John Hammersmith Von Trapp IV. I'm an introvert by nature and while I love seeing people and doing things, I get extremely drained after time spent doing that and I need to recharge. Sometimes I need two hours, sometimes I need a full day.

I listen to my body. When it comes to sleep, when it comes to alone time, when it comes to eating (y'all, if you don't intuitively eat...what are you doing?), really, whenever I don't feel like myself.

So, last Sunday I woke up and I was tired. I had done three big "social" things throughout the week all while still going to the office. This is probably a normal amount of things, I get that, but I was tired. I spent ten minutes laying in bed wondering if I should just suck it up, get dressed, and go for a walk and get groceries. Nothing seemed necessary at that moment and I swallowed down the guilt I dug up for myself about my decision to stay at home that day.

This probably feels like a stupidly simple thing, and maybe it is, but I've struggled for so long wondering if I was doing enough. Do I have enough friends? Am I garnering enough life experiences? Am I taking advantage of being alive and well? Is my privilege of being self-sufficient (albeit barely) and living in New York City going to waste? I'm sure this is all caused by years and years of undiagnosed anxiety, but we're not going to unpack all of that today or probably ever!

There's a certain societal pressure that we all know and love so dearly that we need to do the most and be the most and then make sure it's shown on the internet. I'll even admit to it, I'm not going to bullshit anyone. Sometimes I purposely post things on social media to frame my life as more glamorous than it is in some lame attempt to show people who knew me before my New York City life that I'm doing great and that I'm experiencing cool things that they might not be. It's stupid, slightly petty, and writing it out honestly makes me feel kind of crummy. But hey, I'm here to hold myself accountable.

While I'm certainly part of the problem, I'd like to believe that I show enough of the more authentic side of me across social media that maybe it all evens out. I'm not sure and again, maybe this is something to unpack at a later date when I'm ready to hold myself fully accountable for all of the shithead things I do on social media. 

Because of this pressure to do things, when I have time at home to myself, I think I'm wasting a day to do nothing. I'm at the point in my life that I can quickly shake this off, but it's still something that pops into my head every day that I decide that maybe I'm not going to leave the apartment or maybe just decide to go for a short walk to get some fresh air. But more accurately, I just stay home and do not experience the outside world for a short twenty-four hours and let me tell you...those hours are glorious.

I love alone time just as much as time spent with my friends. Maybe it comes down to me being comfortable with myself, or maybe it's my introverted tendencies of needing to have time alone to recharge before I can be my full self again. Obviously, socialization is a fantastic thing that I would never change for the world, but it's also nice knowing that I'm not going to drive myself mad laying down in my bed or sitting at my desk while I watch TV, eat whatever scraps I might have around the house, pick up a book, clean my room, talk to my mom, you know, the usual Sunday things. 

I've conditioned myself to stop worrying so much about what it looks like I'm doing on the internet and having to prove myself to feel like I'm living, as I would say, my best life. As far as I'm concerned, I haven't had a breakdown in over a year, I can afford rent and food, and when I do spend time with my friends, it's always a blast. If that's not a full life, then I'm not really sure what is.

And just as a little treat, here is my live reaction to seeing a Corgi in real life come into my shot. The owner apologized and I believe I said something along the lines of, "You literally never have to apologize for your dog. Ever." And this is precisely why my Tinder bio is "Seeking Corgi owners."