17 Ways to Feel Less Lonely in Your Own Apartment

You finally have your own place. 

Your own little corner of the world. 

No roommates. No one asking where you’re going. No one leaving dishes in the sink that aren’t yours.

But then one night, you’re sitting there… on your couch, lights dim, maybe your dinner half-eaten on the coffee table— and suddenly, it hits you.

That heavy, quiet kind of loneliness that sneaks in when the world goes still. 

Not because anything’s wrong. 

Just… because it’s quiet. Too quiet.

I’ve been there. 

I think so many of us have. 

And honestly? No one really talks about it. 

No one tells you that even when you choose to live alone, you might still have nights where it feels a little too much. 

A little too empty.

But you’re not broken for feeling that way. 

You’re human. 

And there are ways to soften the edges of that silence. 

Small, gentle things that can help your space feel less lonely—and a little more like home.

Here are 17 things that have helped me (and others) feel a little less alone in their own apartment. 

Take what you need, and leave the rest. 

This list isn’t a prescription—it’s a permission slip.

Pin it:

1. Play a Familiar Soundtrack

You know that feeling when a certain show or song starts playing, and suddenly the room doesn’t feel so empty anymore?

That’s not an accident. 

Sound has this sneaky way of filling up the lonely spaces—especially when it’s something familiar.

For me, it’s Friends in the background or that one Spotify playlist I made back in college and never stopped updating. 

For you, it might be ocean waves, a podcast where someone’s just casually talking, or your favorite childhood movie playing quietly while you fold laundry.

It doesn’t have to be loud. 

It just has to feel like something.

When the silence starts to creep in, press play. 

Let the sound remind you that you’re not floating in a void— you’re in your space, surrounded by the life you’ve built. 

And that hum in the background? That’s the sound of not being alone anymore.

Also read: Why Do I Feel Lonely at Night? (And What Can Actually Help)

2. Make One Cozy Corner Just for You

You don’t have to overhaul your whole apartment. 

But you do need one spot—a chair, a floor pillow, even a warm blanket on the end of your bed—that feels like it hugs you back.

For me, it started with a thrifted lamp, a soft throw, and a $7 candle that smelled like vanilla and old bookstores. 

That little nook became my place. 

Not for scrolling or stressing—just for being. 

Reading, sipping tea, journaling, or even just sitting in the quiet without it feeling so… lonely.

You don’t need a Pinterest-perfect setup. 

Just a space that says, “Hey, I’m glad you’re here.”

Because when your apartment has a spot that feels like safety, even the lonely nights start to feel a little softer.

3. Talk Out Loud (Yes, Really)

It might sound weird at first, but honestly? Talking to yourself can feel surprisingly comforting.

You don’t have to go full Shakespeare—just little things. 

“Okay, let’s make some tea.”
“Oof, that was a long day.”
“Alright babe, let’s clean up this mess.”
(Talking to yourself like you’d talk to someone you love—try it.)

Sometimes the hardest part about living alone is the silence that just sits there, waiting. 

Talking out loud breaks that stillness. 

It makes the space feel lived in. 

Like there’s energy moving through it.

And the wild thing is? 

Over time, your voice becomes something familiar. Reassuring. 

A reminder that you’re still here, still showing up— even on the quietest nights.

Also read: Why Do I Feel Lonely But Still Want to Be Alone?

4. Cook for Yourself Like Someone’s Coming Over

It’s easy to fall into the “meh, I’ll just eat whatever” habit when you live alone. 

I’ve totally done the cereal-for-dinner thing (more than I care to admit). 

But here’s what changed everything for me: I started treating myself like the guest.

I’d light a candle. 

Put something on the stove that smelled amazing. 

Plate the food nicely—even if it was just leftovers.

Not because anyone was watching. 

But because I’m worth that kind of care.

When you cook for yourself, like someone special is coming over, something shifts. 

Suddenly, your apartment doesn’t feel like a holding place between things. 

It feels like home. 

Like a space where you matter enough to slow down, to savor, to be kind to yourself.

You don’t need a three-course meal. 

Just something warm. 

Something intentional. 

Something that says, “I deserve nice things, even when it’s just me.”

5. Open the Windows During the Day

When you live alone, it’s easy to stay sealed in—curtains drawn, blinds half-shut, everything just… still. 

And hey, some days that’s exactly what you need. 

But other days? That stillness can turn into stagnant.

So try this: 

Crack the window.

Let the sunlight stream in.

Let the noise from outside remind you that the world is still spinning.

The distant hum of cars, a neighbor’s laugh, birds arguing in a tree— it’s all subtle, but it’s connection. 

It’s life. 

And even if you’re not with it, you’re still a part of it.

There’s something about fresh air that shakes up the heavy energy, too. 

It clears the room. Clears your head. 

And sometimes, that breeze brushing your skin is just enough to remind you that you’re here, and you’re okay.

Also read: Why Do I Feel So Lonely?

6. Invite Movement into the Space

Stillness can feel peaceful… or it can feel stuck.

And when you’re alone in an apartment that hasn’t changed in hours, the air can get heavy.

That’s where movement comes in. 

And I don’t mean a workout—unless that’s your thing.

I’m talking:

• Dancing in the kitchen while your pasta’s boiling
• Doing a slow stretch on the rug with your hair in a messy bun
• Rearranging the books on your shelf just because it feels good
• Cleaning one drawer like it’s therapy (because sometimes it is)

Movement shifts energy. 

It reminds your body and your brain that this space is alive. 

That you are alive.

Even five minutes can flip the mood. 

Shake off the heaviness. 

And fill the room with something new—something you created.

Also read: Is Living Alone Healthy? Here’s What I’ve Learned After Years of Solo Life

7. Call Someone Without a Reason

Not every phone call needs to be a deep heart-to-heart or a big life catch-up. 

Sometimes, it’s just: “Hey, I was making tea and thought of you,” or “I needed to hear a human voice that’s not mine today.”

And that’s enough.

When you live alone, it’s easy to forget how good it feels to hear someone just being themselves— talking about nothing, laughing at silly stuff, telling you what they had for lunch.

You don’t need a script. 

You don’t even need a plan. 

Just reach out.

And if they don’t pick up? 

No pressure. 

You tried. You showed up. You reminded yourself that connection is still out there.

One tiny, casual conversation can flip a lonely day into something softer. 

Because voices carry warmth. 

And warmth makes space feel less empty.

8. Keep a “Lonely Hour” List

You know those moments where loneliness hits out of nowhere? 

Like a switch flips and suddenly everything feels too quiet, too heavy, too much?

Yeah… me too.

That’s why I made a “lonely hour” list. 

It’s just a little note—tucked in my phone or on a sticky note near my desk— filled with tiny things that help when I can’t think straight enough to help myself.

Stuff like:

• Take a hot shower
• Rewatch a comfort episode
• Text that one friend who always replies with a meme
• Do one small chore
• Light a candle and breathe

The list doesn’t have to be perfect. 

It just has to be yours. 

A gentle reminder, when your brain’s too foggy, that you’ve felt this way before— and you made it through.

Also read: When Living Alone Feels Unproductive — And What That Actually Means

9. Rearrange Something Small

Sometimes the loneliness isn’t just emotional—it’s energetic. 

Like your space feels… stale. Like the air hasn’t moved in days, even if you’ve been living in it.

One of the easiest ways to shift that energy? 

Move something. 

Not big furniture—just one small thing.

• Turn your lamp to face a different direction.
• Swap the blanket on your couch.
• Shift the plants around.
• Even moving your mug rack to the other side of the kitchen can weirdly help.

It’s a reminder that you’re in control of this space. 

That it responds to you. 

And even if the loneliness lingers, at least you’ve stirred things up enough to let a little new energy in.

You don’t need a whole makeover. 

Just one little move to say: I’m still here. I still care.

10. Leave the Lights On (If You Want To)

There’s a lot of romanticizing the “dim lighting, cozy night” vibe out there. 

But honestly? 

Sometimes soft lighting just makes the loneliness louder.

If the darkness feels too heavy—flip the switch. 

Turn on the lights. 

All of them if you want.

Bright doesn’t mean you’re failing at being cozy. 

It just means your nervous system needs something different tonight.

There are nights when my apartment glows like a Target aisle— and you know what? It helps. 

It feels awake. 

It feels less like I’m waiting for something sad to happen.

So don’t force the mood lighting if it doesn’t match your mood. 

You’re allowed to make your space feel safe—even if that means fluorescent kitchen lights at 10 PM.

11. Bring Life In—Literally

You don’t need a cat (though omg yes please if you want one). 

But bringing something living into your space? Total game changer.

It could be:

• A plant you name and talk to
• A goldfish with a weird little personality
• A sourdough starter you feed like a pet
• Fresh herbs growing on your windowsill

Something small. 

Something that relies on you in a gentle way. 

Something that adds a heartbeat to the silence.

It’s not about “keeping busy.” 

It’s about connection. 

About nurturing life, even in the tiniest form, and realizing you’re not entirely alone.

Because the moment you catch yourself smiling at your plant like it’s your roommate? 

That’s when you know—it’s working.

12. Write Notes to Your Future Self

Loneliness has this sneaky way of convincing you that how you feel right now is how you’ll always feel. 

But that’s not true. 

Not even close.

One thing that’s helped me?

Leaving little notes around for my future self. 

Sticky notes on the fridge. A message tucked into a drawer. A random journal entry dated next month.

Stuff like:

• “Hey, you’re doing better than you think.”
• “Remember when this apartment felt too quiet? Look at you now.”
• “If you’re reading this, I’m proud of you.”

These aren’t cheesy affirmations. 

They’re proof that you keep going. 

That past-you cared enough to show up for future-you.

And on a hard day? 

Reading something written by a version of you that believed in you— ugh, buddy, that hits different.

13. Create a Ritual That Feels Sacred

Not a routine. Not a productivity hack. 

A ritual.

Something small, quiet, and just for you.

It could be:

• A slow cup of tea every night before bed
• Lighting the same candle every morning while you journal
• Playing a certain song while you tidy up
• Washing your face like it’s a ceremony, not a chore

When you live alone, your day can feel like one big blur. 

Time melts. Hours stretch. Everything feels… vague.

But a ritual gives shape to your day. 

It anchors you. 

It says, this moment matters, even if no one else sees it.

And over time? 

That ritual becomes comfort. 

A reminder that you’re not just passing time—you’re living it. 

On your own terms, with your own rhythm.

14. Let Yourself Cry Without Shame

Some nights just hit harder than others. 

You’re sitting there, doing everything “right”—lights on, music playing, comfort food in hand— and still, the loneliness creeps in like fog under the door.

Let it. 

Let the tears come. 

Let yourself feel it without trying to fix it right away.

Crying isn’t weakness. 

It’s release. 

It’s your body processing what your brain hasn’t figured out how to say yet.

Living alone means there’s no one there to say, “It’s okay.” 

So you say it to yourself. 

You hold space for the sadness, the ache, the weird ache that doesn’t have words.

And when it passes—and it will—you’ll feel lighter. 

Clearer. 

Like your apartment has just exhaled with you.

15. Keep One Thing That Makes You Laugh

Loneliness can feel so serious. 

So heavy. 

But you’re still you in there—funny, weird, sarcastic you.

So keep something close that reminds you of that. 

Maybe it’s:

• A ridiculous meme folder
• A dumb TikTok you’ve watched 47 times
• A screenshot of a chaotic group chat
• A goofy voice note from your best friend
• A childhood photo that makes you laugh-snort

When the silence starts to press in, pull it out. 

Let yourself smile.

Let yourself remember that there’s joy in you, even on quiet days.

You don’t need a full-on comedy night. 

Sometimes just one small spark of laughter is enough to remind you: You’re still here. Still you. Still full of life.

16. Don’t Try to Fill Every Moment

When you live alone, every moment is yours. 

And that can be beautiful… but also? It can feel like pressure.

You might find yourself reaching for your phone every two seconds. 

Filling your space with noise, distractions, to-do lists, anything to keep the quiet from creeping in.

But here’s the thing: You don’t have to fill it all. 

Stillness isn’t the enemy.

Sometimes the loneliest moments are actually asking for your presence— for you to just be in the quiet, even if it feels a little uncomfortable at first.

Sit on the couch. Breathe. 

Let your thoughts wander. 

Stare at the ceiling. 

No podcast, no plan. Just… stillness.

You’re not doing nothing. 

You’re holding space for yourself. 

And that, buddy, is powerful.

17. Remind Yourself Why You Chose This

You didn’t end up here by accident. 

You chose this space. This season. This quiet. 

Maybe it was for peace. 

Maybe it was for healing. 

Maybe it was simply time.

Whatever the reason—honor it. 

Because even on the loneliest nights, this life you’re building? It’s yours.

It takes strength to live alone. 

To face the silence. 

To learn how to comfort yourself when there’s no one else around.

So when the walls feel like they’re closing in, and the quiet feels too loud— gently remind yourself: 

You’re not failing. 

You’re growing.

This apartment, this chapter, this solitude—it’s shaping you in ways that only solitude can.

One Last Thing Before You Go…

If no one’s told you this lately— you’re doing better than you think.

Loneliness doesn’t mean you’re broken. 

It doesn’t mean you made the wrong choice. 

It just means you’re human… living in a quiet space… trying to figure it out as you go. 

And that’s brave as hell.

Living alone isn’t always romantic or aesthetic. 

Sometimes it’s reheating pasta at 9 pm and crying in your hoodie for no reason. 

Sometimes it’s talking to your plant like it’s a roommate. 

Sometimes it’s beautiful. Sometimes it’s hard. 

Often? It’s both.

But you’re not weird for feeling lonely in a place you chose. 

That’s the part no one tells you. 

You can love your independence and still crave connection. 

That doesn’t make you weak. It makes you real.

So if tonight feels a little heavy, come back to this list. 

Pick one tiny thing. 

And know that somewhere, someone else is doing the same. (Probably with a cup of tea and a candle burning just like yours.)

You’re not alone in this, even if it feels that way sometimes. 

Promise.