Opinion
More women are eating out alone as a self-care routine − one whereby they’ve got nothing to prove and no one interrupts their bite of steak.
Jamie Bucirde
Once upon a time, a woman dining alone at a restaurant screamed social suicide. She must’ve been stood up, is undateable or just tragic. Now? She’s probably ordering oysters and Chablis, loving every minute of it, with no backstory needed.
In my spare time, you’ll find me perched at the bar, sipping a dirty martini (extra olives), with warm bread and house-made butter as an act of self-love with nothing to prove. And I’m not the only one doing it.
I tossed a simple question out on Instagram: “If you’re female, do you love dining alone?” I received 200 replies, each one from strong women I respect, and not one said they felt embarrassed, pitied or lonely.
“I treat myself like I’m worth the effort,” Yas wrote. “That’s the point of solo dining. Linen napkin, good wine, no one interrupting my bite of steak.”
As a sexologist, cultural commentator and unapologetic foodie, I’m fascinated by the rise of solo dating. Economic independence, delayed marriage, and the rejection of pressure to “settle down” have empowered women to prioritise themselves, not just in relationships, but also with things like dining.
Reading the responses, women are rewriting the “rules” and what self-care means as something not to be ashamed of, but something to savour. They’re flipping the script.
The wellbeing of eating alone
Dining solo isn’t just about independence, for many it’s a wellbeing ritual.
“The self-care and self-intimacy of taking yourself out on a date is unmatched,” wrote Lylah.
A 2022 study found that solo adventures such as eating out increase emotional regulation and boost self-worth (Journal of Positive Psychology). Taking yourself out for dinner has been linked to improved body image, lowering stress, and increased life satisfaction (University of British Columbia, 2020).
“Why wait for someone else when you can remind yourself that you’re worthy of every nice thing you can think of?” asks Bryden.
If you’ve not done it before, here are some tips.
The art of solo dining (and how to nail it)
For the uninitiated, eating alone can feel daunting. But like pleasure, it’s a skill you can master.
Curate the mood
Pick somewhere with ambience. Bar seating, moody lighting and a great wine list are your best friends. Sit at the bar, watch the kitchen in action and chat with the bartender if you’re up for it. Bartenders are excellent conversationalists and chances are you’re not the only solo diner. Good service is vital. Non-negotiable, actually.
Try to avoid doom-scrolling
Bring a novel or journal instead, as it’ll make the experience feel romantic, not like you’re killing time. If you’re on your phone, do something engaging: a quiz, a podcast, a Duolingo lesson. I like to call my Mum. If you’re in your bubble, stay there. But if you’re open to connection, ditch the book and see what unfolds. Headphones out, eye contact on.
Order what excites you
Order the thing you’d usually share but have always wanted for yourself. Or a few entrees that tickle your fancy. I love ordering three to four smaller plates, so I can try everything. Hot tip: some restaurants will do half-serves if you ask nicely.
Treat it like a date
In favour of self-romance, seduce yourself. Dress up, take your time, and eat and drink with intention. Engage your senses and notice what you’re experiencing.
“I used to be embarrassed dining alone. Now, it’s my Friday night ritual. I dress up, flirt with the bartender, and don’t have to share dessert,” says Clare.
“I find the service more intimate, I order liberally, and I have the headspace to truly appreciate my food,” says Ava.
Not sure where to start? Here are my favourite solo spots in Melbourne
A fabulous wine list and welcoming vibe. The bread is to die for, too. I recommend the raw fish, shiitake and buddha hand. I sit at the bar, chat to the bartender over a dirty martini and soak up the atmosphere.
Service is excellent. I recently took my book but ended up chatting to a funny, engaging bartender. The bolognese tartine is a must. I had a glass of the 2021 Karim Vionnet Cuvee KV Beaujolais − divine.
This is the coolest, loudest vibe of the three. I sit at the bar and watch the kitchen. The Abrolhos Island scallop with vadouvan and blood orange is my favourite. Embla gets bonus points for its extra dirty martini.
My favourite Sydney solo dining spots
Continental Deli Bar Bistro, Newtown
The perfect spot for a snack and a martini. They make their own adorable branded martinis in tins called “mar-tinny”. (It’s so cute I kept mine as a candleholder.)
This place doubles as P&V’s bottle shop, with one of the best wine selections in the city (arguably the country). Head to the rear courtyard terrace and order something random from the list, with guidance by the excellent team. It’s always serving easy solo dining food, too.
Jamie Bucirde is a sexologist, founding director of On the Cusp, which delivers workshops on sexual violence awareness to hospitality businesses, and behind Not So Hospitable, an Instagram account encouraging people to share experiences of assault and harassment in bars and restaurants. She is the 2025 Age Good Food Guide Cultural Change Champion.
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