I ring in the New Year alone every year and I love every bit of it!

Growing up as an only child and an introvert, New Year’s Eve was never a loud, glittery affair for me. I didn’t really have people my age to celebrate with, and over time, solitude stopped feeling awkward and started feeling safe. What began as circumstance slowly turned into ease—and eventually, a ritual. One I now look forward to every year.

There’s also something deeply symbolic about starting the year this way. We’re constantly told that how you ring in the New Year determines how the rest of it will go. So I choose to begin mine with intention. Being alone reminds me that I enjoy my own company, that I can slow down, and that I’m allowed to prioritise myself without guilt. It’s a quiet promise I make to myself as the year begins.

Of course, not everyone gets it. I’ve been called a loner, anti-social, even “sad” for spending New Year’s Eve alone. But loneliness and solitude are not the same thing. I’m not alone because I don’t have options—I’m alone because I choose to be. And that choice feels incredibly freeing.

In a world that equates happiness with noise, crowds, and constant togetherness, staying in feels almost rebellious. My New Year’s Eve isn’t about fireworks or champagne flutes. It’s about comfort, indulgent food with zero calorie counting, a crisp can of Diet Coke (or two), and closing one chapter gently before starting another. And when the clock strikes midnight, I’m exactly where I want to be—at home, in my PJs, at peace, and completely content.