My solo living anniversary snuck up on me quietly. I’d done the paperwork to renew the lease months before. I only remembered my move-in date because it happened to coincide with my friend’s birthday; messaging her sparked a recollection of doing the same thing 12 months earlier, surrounded by cardboard boxes and bits of flatpack. So I celebrated it pretty quietly too – by cooking a nice dinner, burning a posh candle I’d been given years ago, and setting up some fairy lights around my shelves. Oh, and by sending a monthly meter reading to my utilities provider (no one else was going to do it).

我一個人獨居一周年的日子悄然而至。幾個月前我就已經(jīng)辦理了續(xù)租的手續(xù)，甚至都忘了具體的入住日期。直到我給一個朋友發(fā)消息祝她生日快樂時才猛然想起：12個月前的這一天，我也是一邊發(fā)消息一邊被周圍的紙箱和平板家具的零件包圍著。于是，我也很低調(diào)地慶祝了一下這個紀念日——做了一頓美味的晚餐，點燃了一只朋友多年前送我的高檔蠟燭，還在書架周圍掛上了一些小彩燈。哦，對了，我還給電力公司提交了月度電表讀數(shù)（畢竟也沒有人幫我去做這件事）。

But I wanted to mark the occasion in some way, for two reasons. The first is that when you’re a single woman in her thirties, who isn’t a homeowner, parent, fiancee or wife, it can feel like you spend your life celebrating other people’s milestones and trying to squeeze yourself into the spaces in between. And the second reason? Living alone happily is, I’ve come to believe, a bit of a skill, and it’s one that I’m proud to have honed a little over the past year.

但我還是想以某種方式紀念這個日子，原因有兩個。首先，作為一個三十多歲、未購房、沒當媽、未訂婚、也未結(jié)婚的單身女性，你會感覺自己總是在為別人的重要時刻去喝彩，而自己的生活卻只能在這些夾縫中努力尋找立足之地。其次呢？我漸漸意識到，能夠獨自生活并感到幸福其實是一種技能，而過去一年里，我為這項技能的精進感到自豪。

Of course, it’s also a privilege. I’m only able to (just about) manage it financially because I moved back to Merseyside a few years ago, after sharing London flats with friends, housemates and assorted rodents throughout my twenties; having done the sums, I know I couldn’t afford to rent alone in a similar place in pricier Manchester, the next city along from Liverpool (not that I’d want to, for deep-seated regional rivalry reasons – apols, Andy Burnham).

當然，能夠獨自生活也是一種幸運。我之所以能（勉強）負擔得起，主要是因為幾年前搬回了默西塞德郡。在我二十多歲的時候，一直和朋友、室友，還有各種老鼠一起擠在倫敦的合租公寓里。如果是在房租更貴的曼徹斯特，我根本不可能負擔得起一個人租房（雖然說實話，我也不想搬去那里，畢竟我內(nèi)心對兩個城市的“宿敵”關系還是很執(zhí)著——抱歉了，安迪·伯納姆）。

There’s no getting around the fact that living solo is brutally expensive. It’s not just the fact most one-beds are priced on the assumption that there’s two of you: it’s fixed costs for broadband, the TV licence, the standing charges on your energy bills. It’s the single-person discount on your council tax that knocks only 25 per cent off the payment, rather than halving it. It’s the reality that, for all the zeitgeisty chatter about how being on your own can be empowering, in practical terms, life is very much set up to be navigated as a pair.

不可否認，獨居生活的成本確實高得驚人。不僅是一居室的租金通常是按兩個人分攤的標準定價，還有寬帶、電視頻道費、能源賬單的固定費用。即使有單人優(yōu)惠，市政稅也只是打個75折，而不是減半。盡管如今到處都在宣揚單身生活如何令人自信獨立，但現(xiàn)實是，從實際操作的角度來看，生活的方方面面似乎都更適合兩個人一起面對。

And because of that, it is very easy to slip into a mode of thinking that positions living alone as a sort of stop-gap situation or consolation prize, something that happens en route to coupledom rather than being a legitimate end in itself (is it any wonder, when you’re constantly seen as lacking for not being one of two?). From there, it’s even easier to fall into what I’ve come to call “‘only me’-ism”. As in: should I bother making a proper meal if it’s only me that’s going to eat it? Do I really need to put the heating on yet if it’s only me that’s feeling chilly? And should I go to the effort of properly hanging up my prints and pictures when it’s only me that’s really looking at them, and I don’t even know how long I’ll stay here for?

因此，很容易把獨居生活看作是一個過渡階段，或者是沒有伴侶的“安慰獎”，好像它只是通向二人世界的過渡，而不是一種獨立的生活方式。于是，就很容易陷入我稱之為“‘只剩下我”的思維方式。比如：如果就我一個人吃，做頓好飯有必要嗎？如果只有我一個人覺得冷，是不是還不需要開暖氣？如果只有我一個人而且也不知道會在這里住多久，掛上畫和照片真的有必要去做嗎？

The answer to all of those questions, of course, is yes, and realising this to be the case was probably my first step to enjoying living alone. In my house-sharing years, I’d surreptitiously hoarded screenshots of the interiors I loved – nothing particularly avant garde, just tall bookshelves draped with plants, gallery walls and posters from Swedish designers – but imposing my own taste on communal rooms didn’t feel right. Plus, aesthetics were a secondary concern when we were spending so much time trying to rid the walls of black mould.

這些問題的答案，當然是肯定的，意識到這一點可能是我開始享受獨自生活的第一步。在合租的日子里，我偷偷地收藏了許多自己喜歡的室內(nèi)設計截圖——并不是什么特別前衛(wèi)的風格，只是高大的書架上掛滿了植物，墻上有畫廊風格的掛畫，還有瑞典設計師的海報——但把自己的喜好強加到公共區(qū)域總覺得不太合適。而且，當我們花了很多時間清除墻上的黑霉時，審美早已變成了次要問題。


Now, though, I can make my space look exactly how I want it to look. For me, that means lots of plants, lots of patterns and multiple colour-coordinated bookshelves (yes, it’s a bit basic; no, I don’t care). In Arrangements in Blue, a memoir-slash-manifesto about solo life, the writer Amy Key suggests that the “creation of [her] own private domestic space is a kind of romance”, which is, I think, a wonderful way to reimagine the act of making a home your own. She also notes that living alone means she hasn’t “had [her] taste neutralised into an unthreatening benign palette by the need for compromise”, another sentiment I love. Of course, I went a bit over the top at first. High on my own ability to rearrange knick-knacks and plonk dried flowers in vases, I told my friends I was considering training as an interior designer. I’d almost definitely been streaming too much Interior Design Masters at the time – when you live alone, you can watch whatever you wish.

但現(xiàn)在，我可以把自己的空間布置成我想要的樣子。對我來說，這意味著很多植物、豐富的圖案和多個色彩協(xié)調(diào)的書架。在艾米·基（Amy Key）的回憶錄兼宣言《藍色布置》中，她提到“創(chuàng)造自己私密的家居空間是一種浪漫”，我覺得這是重新定義把家打造得獨一無二的方式，十分美妙。她還提到，獨自生活意味著她沒有因為妥協(xié)的需要，而讓自己的品味變成一個無害的、溫和的配色方案，這也是我非常認同的觀點。當然，一開始我有點過于投入了。沉浸在自己能重新布置小飾品和把干花放進花瓶的能力中，我曾告訴朋友們，我在考慮去學室內(nèi)設計。那時，我?guī)缀蹩隙ㄊ强吹锰唷妒覂?nèi)設計大師》了——畢竟，獨自生活，你可以隨心所欲地看任何節(jié)目。
原創(chuàng)翻譯：龍騰網(wǎng) http://m.mintwatchbillionaireclub.com 轉(zhuǎn)載請注明出處


The irony of living alone is that however much effort you pour into making your home feel right, spending time outside of that home is incredibly important too. I launched straight into living solo while working remotely from home, which is a bit like turning up to, say, an advanced dance class with no prior training and expecting that you’ll miraculously be able to manage the moves – an intense way to start things off, and arguably a little bit foolish. I soon learnt that my work-life situation means that I need to be scrupulous about planning my weeks to ensure that I don’t get stir-crazy, or get trapped in my own head.

獨居生活的一個矛盾之處在于，不管你多么努力地讓家里變得舒適，外面的世界同樣非常重要。我在開始獨居生活的同時也開始了我的遠程工作，這就像是沒有任何基礎就去參加一個高級舞蹈課，指望自己能馬上掌握動作——這種方式開始確實有點動蕩，也有點沖動。我很快就意識到，由于我的工作和生活方式，我必須認真規(guī)劃每周的安排，避免陷入孤獨或過度思考。

Structure is vital, and so is fostering your own sense of community, whatever that might look like. When I first moved here, I was training for a half-marathon (yes, another thirtysomething cliche) which meant lots of long solo runs; I was spending plenty of time with my own thoughts and the Pet Shop Boys’ greatest hits for company. Since then, I’ve realised that group classes are a much better fit for me, whether that’s pilates at a welcoming city centre studio or the weights session at the women-only gym down the road, where you can chat in between rounds.

規(guī)律和社交都非常重要，無論它們呈現(xiàn)的形式是什么。當我剛搬到這里時，我正在為參加半程馬拉松做訓練（是的，又是三十多歲的人常做的事），這意味著我得做很多長時間的單人跑步；我常常和自己的思緒為伴，背景音樂則是寵物店男孩的經(jīng)典歌曲。之后，我意識到，團體課程更適合我，無論是在市中心那家溫馨的普拉提工作室，還是在附近的女性專用健身房里做力量訓練，大家在每輪訓練之間還能聊聊天。

Essentially, if socialising isn’t an incidental part of your day, you probably need to go out of your way to work it in (and ignore the cynical side of your brain that tells you that doing so is naff and try-hard). Right now, I have more hobbies than I’ve had since I was a very earnest eight-year-old. I’ve started going to art classes again, having previously put down the oil pastels when the invigilator announced the end of my GCSE practical exam, half my lifetime ago. I’m part of two book clubs, because my instinctive favourite activity, reading, isn’t exactly sociable. In a roundabout way, living alone has made me more conscious of the fact that my time is my own, to fill with stuff I enjoy. And if I don’t make things happen, meter readings and utility bill wrangling included, no one else will.

實際上，如果社交活動不是你日常生活中的一個自然而然的部分，你可能需要刻意去安排它（并且忽視你內(nèi)心那個告訴你這樣做很矯情、很做作的聲音）?，F(xiàn)在，我有的興趣愛好比我小時候八歲時還要多。比如，我又開始上藝術課了，曾經(jīng)在很久以前，當監(jiān)考老師宣布我的GCSE實操考試結(jié)束時，我放下了油畫棒，直到現(xiàn)在才重新拾起。我還參加了兩個讀書俱樂部，因為我的本能最喜歡的活動——讀書，并不是一種特別社交的活動。通過這種方式，獨自生活讓我更加意識到我的時間是屬于我的，我可以用它來做自己喜歡的事情。如果我不主動去安排這些事情，包括提交電表讀數(shù)和處理賬單，沒人會替我做。

Doing this has allowed me to meet lots of new people, including other solo dwellers. When you’re always being told, implicitly or explicitly, that your life doesn’t quite fit into the expected paradigm, it’s important to spend some of your time with those in similar situations. This helps you to sense-check the voice in the back of your head telling you that you’re some sort of anomalous outlier. Recently, though, I must admit that I’ve mainly become pretty jealous of their pets. My family’s allergies mean that a cat is out of the question, but my goal for 2025 is to adopt a dog.

這樣做讓我結(jié)識了很多新朋友，包括其他獨居的人。當你總是被明里暗里地告知自己的生活似乎不太符合常規(guī)模式時，和有相似處境的人在一起度過一些時間是非常重要的。這可以幫助你打破內(nèi)心那個不斷告訴你自己是“另類”的聲音。不過，最近我必須承認，我開始有點羨慕他們的寵物了。因為家里有過敏問題，我不能養(yǎng)貓，但我的2025年目標是領養(yǎng)一只狗。

When people learn that you live on your own, the most common follow-up question is: but don’t you get really lonely? The honest answer is yes, a little bit, sometimes. But right now, the independence, the freedom and the sense of fulfilment that comes with doing things on your own terms just about outweighs that. And frankly, I’ve felt far, far lonelier when I was stuck in a terrible Spare Room houseshare, dreaming of an escape route and a living room of one’s own.

當人們得知你獨自生活時，最常問的一個問題是：難道你不覺得很孤單嗎？坦率地說，答案是的，有時候確實會感到有點孤單。但現(xiàn)在，獨立、自由以及按照自己方式做事所帶來的成就感，幾乎能夠彌補這一點。坦白說，我曾經(jīng)在一段糟糕的共享房屋生活中感到更加孤單，那時我常常夢想著能逃離那個困境，擁有屬于自己的客廳。

原創(chuàng)翻譯：龍騰網(wǎng) http://m.mintwatchbillionaireclub.com 轉(zhuǎn)載請注明出處