I Spent New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Alone — And I Chose That On Purpose

This year, I spent New Year’s Eve and New Year’s completely by myself.

And not in a sad, “nobody invited me” way.

In a deliberate, I chose this for myself way.

Because 2025 was rough. Like… rough in a way I don’t even feel like fully explaining. Good things happened too, sure — but overall? It was one of those years that leaves you feeling wrung out. As early as October, I already knew: I don’t want noise. I don’t want pressure. I don’t want midnight expectations. I want peace.

My parents were going away for the holidays, and I decided I wasn’t going with them.

First of all, I’m too old for that. Second, even though I actually like traveling, at the time I was jobless and I didn’t know what my schedule would look like. Last year, I worked on December 31st, I was off on January 1st, and then I worked again on January 2nd — and if you’ve ever had that kind of schedule, you know how miserable it is.

This year I did end up finding a job, and my first day was December 1st. Luckily, we got a long weekend starting December 31st, and it lasts until January 5th — which honestly felt like a miracle.

But before all that, there was the New Year’s argument.

My parents were like, “We’ll call you at midnight,” and I immediately said: No. You’re not calling me at midnight.

I told them I would turn off my phone. I told them I’d call them when I wanted to, but I wasn’t letting anyone disturb my sleep. And yes — it turned into a huge argument.

My mom assumed it was because I’d be alone and sad.

And I was like… no.

It had nothing to do with loneliness. I genuinely didn’t care about being alone. I cared about one thing only:

Ending my year in peace.

Eventually she understood where I was coming from, and she agreed not to call.

And honestly? That one boundary felt like the first good thing I did for myself in a long time.

December 31st: A Quiet, Practical, Peaceful Day

By December 30th, I was counting down the hours to my last workday. Work has been so bad for me that I already hate it — the job, the routine, the environment, the people… it’s a lot. So when I left work that day, I felt free in a way I hadn’t felt in weeks.

On December 31st, I woke up on my own at 4:00 AM — even though my alarm was set for 5:30.

I read a little on my tablet, then got up and cleaned my apartment. Showered. Did all the practical “reset” stuff you do when you want your space and your body to feel like yours again.

I had a short writing session at a local coffee shop — only about an hour — but it mattered. I finished two chapters in two different stories because I didn’t want to end the year with unfinished work sitting in my backlog.

I didn’t finish one chapter I’d been trying to complete during my writing challenge, so yes, that officially became a “new year” task. (No pun intended, but also… kind of a pun.)

Later, I went to the city center because I knew January 1st would be closed-off and weird. I bought pastries for the next day, tried a new coffee shop, and got hot chocolate.

The hot chocolate was good — but they put three marshmallows in it, and two of them got stuck to the bottom of the cup. Which sounds like a tiny problem, but it annoyed me so much in a very specific “end-of-year” way.

After that, I went home, did more chores, ordered food, then showered again because I wanted to wash my hair and do a face mask. I tried catching up on Lie to Me (and got bored). Read a little.

And at some point, I played my personal “closing a chapter” music — the songs that feel like they’re designed for endings.

I listened to “Waiting for the End” by Linkin Park.

And I listened to “Place in This World” by for KING & COUNTRY — which, honestly, felt like a prayer. Like: please let this be the year I find my place. Please let it get better.

Then I took one of those Bach flower-type gummies that help with sleep, dimmed the lights, and went to bed.

No countdown.

No president’s speech.

No champagne.

No pretending.

I slept through the new year.

And yes — it felt weird.

Because my entire life, New Year’s Eve looked the same: staying up, watching the speech, toasting with my parents, doing the “this is what people do” routine.

This year, I did laundry. I did skincare. I cleaned. I chose peace.

I woke up during the night to use the bathroom and I refused to check my phone. I didn’t even want to know what time it was. There were fireworks before I fell asleep, but after that? Nothing. I slept through it all.

And that was the point.

January 1st: A Calm Start (And a Little Loneliness)

On January 1st, I woke up early — alarm set for 6:30 — and I felt… okay. I actually felt good. Rested. Human.

It was freezing cold, so I forced myself to stay home until at least 9:00 AM. When I finally went outside, the city felt like a ghost town — but not completely dead. There were still people out, just… fewer. Quiet.

Public transport was running, so I went to the center.

I was thinking about getting something to eat. I even considered McDonald’s (even though I’m supposed to be boycotting it), simply because I assumed it would be one of the only things open.

Except it wasn’t even open when it said it would be.

So I just started roaming.

And then I thought: Why not go to church?

So I did.

There was a liturgy, and I stayed for about 10–15 minutes. I listened. Said “Lord have mercy” quietly. Crossed myself a few times. It felt peaceful…

…but also lonely, in a way I can’t fully explain.

Not lonely as in “I’m alone.” Lonely as in… small. Like you can feel the year changing and you’re standing there with your own thoughts and your own life, and it’s just you.

After that, I saw a fancy place that looked open and I considered going in — but then I called my mom and she basically said she didn’t like the idea of me sitting alone in a fancy restaurant as a woman, because people can assume stupid things.

So I didn’t.

Instead, I ended up finding another place — a restaurant with a brunch menu — and I am SO glad I went.

The Brunch Place That Changed My Mood

That brunch was one of those small moments that accidentally becomes a big moment.

The place was open. It had a real brunch menu. It felt normal. Safe. Alive.

I ordered American pancakes (and kind of regretted it because hot chocolate + Nutella pancakes is… a lot of chocolate), but honestly? I was just happy to be somewhere warm with other people nearby.

By around 11:00, the restaurant started filling up. It wasn’t crowded, but it got close to full.

And I thought:

So this is what New Year’s can be.

Not groggy. Not hungover. Not forcing yourself to stay awake just to prove something.

Just… starting your day. Feeding yourself. Sitting somewhere cozy. Being calm.

I tried writing a little while I was there, but writing was hard that day. I had a headache and I felt slightly feverish, and I was tired — so I didn’t force it.

I went home, watched a movie called The Greening of Whitney Brown (it’s almost 15 years old now), and it was weirdly comforting. The early-2010s aesthetic, the cozy vibe… it didn’t feel like the typical horse-girl movie, it felt different. Like it had a softness that a lot of newer movies don’t.

Later I tried having a writing session with my boyfriend, but the headache got worse, I had to take a pill, and I mostly just rested.

And you know what?

That’s fine.

Why I’d Do This Again

My parents’ holiday disappointed them this year. Not just emotionally — physically too. They were tired and groggy until around 3:00 PM.

Meanwhile, I slept almost nine hours. I woke up rested. I went to church. I found a new brunch place. I had a calm day. I started the year without chaos.

I also listened to songs that felt like the right energy for starting over — like “Iridescent” by Linkin Park, because the lyrics are literally about remembering the sadness and frustration… and letting it go.

And the biggest difference this year was simple:

I made my own New Year.

I didn’t follow a script. I didn’t perform tradition just because it’s tradition. I didn’t let anyone pressure me into what midnight “should” look like.

Because if you have work the day before, or the day after, or you’re exhausted, or your life is stressful… why would you want to stay up until 3 AM just to feel awful the next day?

I’m starting to understand why some people don’t celebrate New Year’s Eve the way we’re told to.

Sometimes the best celebration is literally… peace.

And honestly?

This might have been the best New Year’s I’ve ever had.

Because I took control of my situation. I asserted myself. I chose how to spend it.

Now I have a few days left before I go back to work — and I want to use them well. I want to find a place where I can do Tai Chi. I want peace. Maybe meditation too. I have to find a birthday gift for my dad. I want to finish a few chapters. I’m working on a small project.

I’m not trying to “be perfect.”

I’m just trying to start the year in a way that feels… safe.

Because I know the stress will come back when work starts again.

So yes.

I’m extremely glad I spent New Year’s Eve sleeping.

And I’m proud of myself for choosing that.