“I loved, like... 85% of it.”
This has been my stock response to the frequently asked question that is often thrown to women like me.
It’s an honest answer. For the most part I really did love my solo-lockdown adventure. I treated it as a summit to be conquered, a new mission to excel at. I coped by setting myself goals and challenges to ensure I was maximising on my new ‘free time’. I’ve never done so much DIY in my life. I found a new sense of gratitude for my home as it was suddenly transformed from my good-investment-somewhere-to-sleep space to my office-gym-coffee-shop-entertainment-safe space.
I found moments of peace – joy, even – during the days and weeks I spent alone. I reflected on self, thought about what I wanted from life, meditated in the sun and really tried to make the most of it. My relationships with those closest to me flourished, tethered together through the most testing times with honesty, love, video calls and quiz nights.
Yet whilst 85% is a score high enough to grant me entry into the upper echelons of most academic institutions, I’m pretty sure I’ll be taking a hard pass at the prospect of enduring another lockdown alone. I’ve passed the test, I don’t need to resit the exam.