Why I Stopped Eating Over the Sink (and Started Setting the Table for Myself)

Why I Stopped Eating Over the Sink (and Started Setting the Table for Myself)

There was a stretch of time when most of my dinners looked like this:
Standing at the counter.
Fork in one hand, phone in the other.
Half-watching emails, half-eating leftovers straight from the Tupperware.

Nothing was “wrong.” I was just… tired. Busy.
And let’s be honest, when you’re cooking for one, it’s easy to slip into the habit of not really bothering.

It’s just me.
Who cares?
Why go to all the trouble?

But the longer I did it, the more meals I rushed through, ignored, or skipped entirely, the more something in me started to feel… invisible.

The little moment that changed everything

One night, for no big reason, I decided to do things differently.
I lit a candle.
I played a playlist I love.
I put real food on a real plate, sat at the table, and actually tasted it.

No audience. No occasion. No Instagram post.
Just me.

And it felt… weird. And kind of beautiful.
And also, strangely emotional?

That one tiny moment made me realize: I’d been treating myself like an afterthought. Like I only deserved “effort” if someone else was there to witness it.

It’s not about being fancy.

I’m not here to tell you that you need to roast a duck and fold linen napkins.
(Unless you want to, then absolutely go for it.)

But what I am saying is this: how we feed ourselves matters.
Not just what’s on the plate, but the energy around it.
The care. The pause. The way we show up for ourselves, even when no one else is in the room.

Solo meals can feel sad when they’re rushed, distracted, or done on autopilot.
But when they’re done with even a touch of love?
They become something else entirely.

This is where The Solo Supper Club began.

Not in a big shiny moment.
But in a quiet one.
A regular Sunday night where I stopped eating over the sink and decided I was worth sitting down for.

This isn’t just about dinner.
It’s about choosing yourself.
Again and again, in the small ways that add up.

It’s about saying:
I deserve a plate.
I deserve to feel good, even when it’s just me at the table.

Especially then.

If you’ve been in the “why bother?” phase lately…

I get it. I really do.
But maybe tonight, just for the hell of it, you light that candle.
You put the chips back in the cupboard.
You play a song you love, and you sit down, like you matter.

Because you do.
And that seat at the table?
It’s always been yours.

Emma xo
The Solo Supper Club