From Fear to Freedom: Embracing Solo Dining

For years, the author feared dining alone in public, worried about social judgment. This fear was rooted in a childhood spent hosting vibrant dinner parties in the Dominican Republic and later in San Francisco, where the communal table was central to connection. After moving back to New York City and facing the logistical challenges of scheduling meals with busy friends, the author decided to confront this anxiety. By preparing a "Me, Myself, and I Kit"—containing a phone charger, books, and a journal—the author transformed solo dining into a productive and peaceful ritual. The experience taught valuable lessons in decompression, self-reflection, and the realization that the harshest critic is often oneself. Ultimately, dining alone became an opportunity to savor food at one's own pace, free from social pressure.

The journey began with a name that carried destiny. The author's last name is Mesa, which translates to "table" in English. This coincidence fostered a belief that the author was born to work in the hospitality industry. The passion for hosting was nurtured from a young age while growing up in the Dominican Republic with maternal grandparents.

Home life introduced the author to an immaculate environment and a beautifully decorated dining table. The grandmother took immense pride in her preparations, creating bright floral arrangements, polishing silverware, and making name cards with magic markers. She always wore a smile while performing these tasks.

There was a specific ritual regarding the table settings. Although the table seated eight people, it was always set for only seven guests. When asked why, the grandmother explained:

"I always leave an unmarked place setting in case we get a surprise visitor so that they can join us."

Remarkably, someone always showed up to fill that empty seat.

After spending formative years between the Dominican Republic and New York City, the author moved to San Francisco to pursue a dream of living in California. Once settled into a routine, the need to make friends became apparent. This led to the creation of "California Caribbean" themed dinner parties.

The hosting journey officially began in July 2015. The process involved submitting a 30-second video showcasing the home and explaining why the author would be a good host. Pictures of previous gatherings were also shared. A week later, an invitation arrived to "throw a demo event" as an audition. The author passed the test.

While dining in a stranger's home may seem unusual to some, the concept is historically rooted. The author noted that during the French Revolution, the trend was table d'hote, where guests sat at a large table to enjoy a set menu with wine.

For nearly eight years, the author hosted these events. The experience created magic by connecting people who otherwise wouldn't have met. It allowed the author to cook and share stories with individuals of different nationalities, races, genders, and socioeconomic backgrounds. The memories are preserved in a guestbook containing entries in over 20 languages.

The aftermath of COVID-19 restructured personal lives globally. For the author, it highlighted both positive and negative aspects of close relationships, leading to the decision to end an almost 11-year relationship with a housemate. Returning to New York City felt like the necessary step to restart and strategize.

The transition was described as an "earthquake going from west to east." To save money while interviewing for work, the author lived in a communal house. Most close friends had moved away to other states for relationships or jobs. The city no longer felt like the hometown of youth, but rather a new home to navigate.

The greatest challenge of this move was what the author termed the "Obstacle Course of Getting People Together." In New York, every person is busy, and time waits for no one. Scheduling a meal with friends felt impossible. It was during this period that the author confronted the long-held fear of dining alone.

The fear of dining alone was rooted in the desire to avoid being perceived as "Pity, Party of One." To overcome this, the author made the first solo reservation equipped with a specific survival kit: the "Me, Myself, and I Kit."

The kit included:

• A charger for the smartphone
• Two books
• A journal
• A composition notebook for to-do lists

Through this practice, the author discovered that eating alone is a positive experience for self-reflection, mindfulness, and enjoying one's own company. Several specific benefits emerged:

• Decompression: A way to recover from the exhaustion of being around many people.
• Self-Reflection: The ability to stop, observe oneself, and examine choices.
• Productivity: Time to map out bills, appointments, and goals.
• Sensory Enjoyment: The freedom to savor each bite at one's own pace without distraction.

Perhaps the most significant realization was that the person who judges the author the most is the author himself. By removing the pressure to conform to social expectations, dining alone became a moment of freedom and earned pleasure.