My alone time is sacred. When I say “alone time,” I’m not talking about masturbation (okay, sometimes I am talking about masturbation). I mean time spent on my own doing something relaxing, indulgent, or even mind-numbing.
I always credit my love of quiet solitude to the fact that I’m an only child. I’ve been chilling on my own since day one. But until recently this wasn’t cool. For the majority of my life I’ve felt that my need for a little me time to replenish my energy was a weakness.
Our society tends to idealize extroversion. We often equate successful people with outgoing, supersocial personalities. I was under the impression that people like me, who need to remove themselves from the world and rest in order to thrive, would never be as successful as those who don’t have this weakness.
Fortunately I was wrong about this. In the past few years there has been an introvert revolution. The self-help shelves are flooded with books about how to essentially stay in, eat, drink, light a candle, and relax your way to happiness.
When we lived by a book called Pantsdrunk, which promoted this kind of introverted recharging, I was as happy as a pig in poo. The Finnish concept of kalsarikänni (pantsdrunk) centers on relaxing at home in your undies while drinking and with no intention of leaving the house. Indulging in a pantsdrunk evening is supposed to help recenter you after long, stressful days and give you a chance to partake in the ease of “meaningful meaninglessness.”
I was overjoyed to see this advice in a book. Finally, a way I already take care of myself is validated as something other people think is worth trying—and even writing a book about! Within seconds of finishing the book I had cracked open a bottle of rosé apple cider, turned on a Lifetime movie about a cyberstalker, and got my recharge on.
By the end of our two weeks living by Pantsdrunk, I was a master of all things revitalizing and indulgent. I experimented with eating bags of chocolate chips while watching Real Housewives marathons and texting funny GIFs to my best friend while I sipped a beer and did a face mask. I was staying in, pampering my ass as hard as I could, and loving every second of it. Even Brad noticed I was in a way better mood every morning after I took an evening to get my pantsdrunk on. It was the real deal.
But the deal was less real for Kristen; her experience was not as blissful as mine. The combination of activities just didn’t work for her. Drinking alone made her sad. Reading negative comments on social media while under the influence bummed her out and made her feel lonely. And no matter how hard she tried to pantsdrunk, she often found herself feeling more stir-crazy than recharged.
Kristen is an extrovert; she gets energy from being around other people. Socializing doesn’t suck her dry the way it does me and most other introverts. She recharges by having a group of friends over, or by wandering off to the farmers’ market. And that’s just as valid as chilling with a glass of wine in an old oversize T-shirt. Because recharging and taking time to replenish your energy is what is good for you, no matter how you do it.
What I really loved about living by Pantsdrunk was the permission it gave me to actually indulge in how I naturally tend to unwind, instead of feeling guilty for watching “garbage” TV or staying in to have a fancy snack instead of going out on a Friday night. We all deserve this kind of permission to treat ourselves to time that is free from obligations and expectations. And no matter how you do it, taking care of yourself isn’t a waste of time.
So when you need to recharge, own it any way that feels right for you. Grab that wine and an old movie and cuddle up with your dog on the couch. Host a karaoke party with all your friends and sing until the sun comes up. Or grab your favorite “alone time” toy and go to town on yourself. You deserve it.
Dear Kristen and Jolenta,
I find that when a lot of people say they want to recharge, what they really mean is that they want to go to a spa or salon, or do some online shopping, or put on expensive face masks while drinking rosé. In today’s world (and especially in the self-help world) isn’t recharge just a code word for consumerist self-indulgence?
—LS
Dear LS,
Your findings are definitely real. It’s frustrating that general concepts like “wellness” and “recharging” have been co-opted by social media influencers and consumerism. Selling recharging crystals or shilling face masks in the name of happiness is hollow and takes advantage of people truly searching for more in their lives.
But I like to try to believe that all advice, at its root, is sincere. To test this theory, I always try to see if I can live by a book while spending as little money as possible. I’ve found that recharging (via pantsdrunk, hygge, or any other means) can easily happen without purchasing a thing.
I found that, while reading books on how to recharge didn’t change me or my habits much, it did help me reframe how I already relax. I’m able to see it as necessary and good for me. Something I can do with intention instead of see as a lazy vice.
But lots of people aren’t me, and I think advice on staying in to revitalize oneself may work better for those of us who identify as introverts. It can help take away some of the guilt we introverts usually associate with needing alone time to recharge.
I know many extroverts (Kristen included) who go stir-crazy taking this advice and choose to relax in very different ways. These ways to unwind are fun concepts that can help you kick back, but they aren’t hugely life altering, and definitely not worth spending tons of money on—you’ve got that right.
—Jolenta