While everyone else is making brunch plans and weekend getaways, you're deep into hour three of reorganizing your closet, convincing yourself this is exactly the "me time" you need—but deep down, you know something's missing.
Ever notice how Sunday evening rolls around and you realize you haven't had a real conversation with anyone all weekend? I used to convince myself that my solo weekends were all about self-care and personal growth. The truth? I was just really good at avoiding the fact that I didn't have anyone to hang out with.
Look, there's nothing wrong with enjoying your own company. But when every weekend becomes a masterclass in avoiding human connection while telling yourself you're "recharging," it might be time for some honest reflection. I spent years in this pattern during my finance days, working 70-hour weeks and telling myself my weekend isolation was necessary recovery time. What I was really doing was hiding from the reality that I'd let all my genuine friendships fade away.
If you're spending every weekend alone and calling it self-care, you might recognize some of these habits. Trust me, I've done them all.
1. Binge-watching entire seasons while calling it "mindful relaxation"
There's a difference between enjoying a few episodes of your favorite show and spending 14 hours straight watching Netflix while telling yourself you're "decompressing." I remember weekends where I'd watch an entire season of something, order takeout three times, and never leave my apartment. By Sunday night, I'd feel worse than before, but I'd convinced myself this was restorative.
Real self-care involves balance. When you're using TV to avoid making plans or reaching out to people, that's not relaxation. That's hiding. The glow of the screen becomes a substitute for actual human interaction, and before you know it, you've spent another weekend completely disconnected from the world.
2. Deep-cleaning everything as "therapeutic organizing"
Every Saturday morning, I'd wake up with a mission: reorganize my entire closet, scrub the bathroom until it sparkled, or finally tackle that junk drawer. By evening, my apartment looked pristine, but I'd spent another day talking to no one except maybe the cashier at the grocery store.
Don't get me wrong, a clean space can definitely boost your mood. But when you're using cleaning as your primary weekend activity and calling it therapy, you might be avoiding something bigger. I was literally scrubbing away my loneliness instead of addressing it. The spotless apartment became my excuse for not inviting anyone over.
3. Taking solo "adventure walks" that are really just wandering around
"I'm exploring the city!" I'd tell myself as I walked aimlessly through neighborhoods for hours every Saturday. These weren't intentional nature walks or planned hikes. They were just me, earbuds in, avoiding eye contact with everyone while pretending I was on some kind of urban adventure.
Walking is great exercise, sure. But when your weekend walks become a way to fill time and avoid making actual plans with people, they stop being self-care and start being self-isolation. I'd come home exhausted, having walked miles without any real purpose except killing time until Monday.
4. Meal prepping for the entire week and calling it "investing in health"
Sunday would roll around, and I'd spend six hours cooking elaborate meals for the week ahead. Chopping vegetables became meditative, I told myself. This was me taking control of my nutrition! In reality, I was using meal prep as a way to fill an entire day without having to face the fact that I had no one to share a meal with.
The irony? Food is meant to bring people together. Instead, I was turning it into another solitary activity. Those perfectly portioned containers in my fridge represented another weekend spent alone, disguised as productivity.
5. Starting multiple online courses but never finishing them
"This weekend, I'm investing in myself!" became my Friday night mantra as I'd sign up for another online course. Photography, coding, creative writing, you name it. By Sunday evening, I'd have watched maybe two videos before getting distracted by another course that seemed more interesting.
Personal development is valuable, but when it becomes your only weekend activity and you're not actually completing anything, it's just another avoidance tactic. I had dozens of half-started courses cluttering my browser bookmarks, each one representing a weekend I could have spent building actual connections with people.
6. Creating elaborate skincare routines that take hours
Face masks, body scrubs, hair treatments, the works. I'd turn my bathroom into a spa every Saturday night, spending three hours on skincare routines that probably didn't need to be that complicated. "Self-care Saturday" became my excuse for not making any evening plans.
Taking care of your skin is important, but when your skincare routine becomes more involved than most people's social lives, it might be time to reassess. I was literally hiding behind face masks instead of facing the reality of my isolation.
7. Constantly rearranging furniture to "optimize the space"
How many times can one person move their couch in a month? In my case, apparently every weekend. I'd spend hours pushing furniture around, convinced that the perfect room layout would somehow make me feel more fulfilled. Spoiler alert: it didn't.
Your living space matters, but constantly rearranging it won't fill the emptiness that comes from lack of genuine human connection. I was trying to fix my external environment instead of addressing what was really missing from my life.
8. Doing intensive workouts alone while avoiding gym classes
Two-hour solo gym sessions became my Saturday morning ritual. I'd avoid all the group classes, put in my earbuds, and power through workout after workout. "I'm focusing on my fitness journey," I'd tell myself, while actively avoiding any opportunity to interact with other gym-goers.
Exercise is crucial for wellbeing, but when you're using it as another wall between you and potential connections, it stops being purely beneficial. Those group classes I avoided? They could have been opportunities to meet people with similar interests.
9. Journaling extensively about self-improvement without taking action
Pages and pages of self-reflection, goal-setting, and personal analysis filled my notebooks. Every Sunday evening, I'd write about all the things I wanted to change, the person I wanted to become, the life I wanted to live. But Monday would come, and nothing would actually change.
Journaling can be incredibly valuable for self-awareness. But when it becomes a substitute for actual living and connecting with others, it's just another form of hiding. I was writing about life instead of living it.
The real truth about genuine self-care
After leaving finance and losing most of my work "friends," I had to face an uncomfortable truth: I'd been performing friendships rather than experiencing them. Real self-care isn't about filling every weekend with solitary activities that keep you busy. It's about building a life that includes genuine connections, even if that means starting small.
These days, my circle is smaller but infinitely more meaningful. Some weekends I still enjoy solo activities, but they're balanced with real connections. True self-care includes nurturing relationships, being vulnerable enough to reach out when you're lonely, and recognizing when your "self-care" has become self-isolation.
If you recognized yourself in this list, you're not alone. The first step is admitting that maybe, just maybe, some of your weekend routines aren't serving you the way you think they are. Real growth happens when we're honest about what we're avoiding. And sometimes, the most radical act of self-care is picking up the phone and asking someone to grab coffee.
