Issue #53: How do you solve a problem like a weekend?

Half of us lie about our Friday to Sunday plans, according to research. Here's how I've (truthfully) fallen back in love with mine.

I’ve just about figured out how to love weekends again. It took me a while. When I got back from Lisbon (and a year of on-off travelling) last May, I had a rude awakening. Living in digital nomadland, among a community of mostly-unmarried thirtysomethings, the weekend equation was much simpler. Friday was Happy Hour at my co-working space, where evening plans were hatched on the spot. Saturdays always came together in much the same easy manner: everyone lived with a 20-minute radius (or a cheap Uber), including a close friend who generously included me in her plans. Or else, I had friends come to visit. Sundays were often a ‘come one, come all’ beach trip.

Returning to London was a different beast. While I’d been sojourning here, there and everywhere, friends had their own priorities: new or intensifying relationships; family or childcare commitments; marathon training schedules; new homes; or else they were travelling as much as me. That’s the reality of your thirties is that your lives begin to go in different directions (it’s just that, being away, I hadn’t noticed it that much until I got home). Although your friendships might be stronger and more authentic than ever – as has been the case for mine – it takes more creativity in order to make your schedules align.

Upon returning home, while my weeks were busy-ish – freelance work, professional events and mid-week dinners with friends – Friday to Sunday in London felt intimidating: a vast, blank canvas I couldn’t quite remember how to fill. That blank canvas quickly turned into a Jackson Pollock painting. Obviously, there were the regular staples: spending time with close friends and family. But, beyond that, time was harder to fill. There were random fitness classes. First dates. Myriad coffee shops. Different corners of London. Catching up with people I hadn’t seen in a while. Tagging along to friends of friends’ gatherings. It was, in some respects, the right strategy. I need to test the waters: to remember the different ingredients that make up a weekend. Plus, as an extrovert, meeting strangers or encountering new social situations is where I thrive.

But there was a sense of chaos about it too. A lack of routine, familiarity or structure – all of which I thrive on. The absence of proper rest and nourishment (in every sense). The potential for loneliness, either when a plan fell through; or when a social interaction would, for whatever reason, leave me feeling more disconnected in the aftermath. It didn’t feel like I controlled my weekends, but they controlled me – more specifically, I was controlled by the fear of being asked, ‘What are you up to this weekend?’ and not having much to say. Of that ‘Friday Feeling’ eluding me at 5pm; of dreading, rather than looking forward to, the 48 hours or so that followed. Of being the Millennial that let Rebecca Black down. Of ‘Sunday Scaries’ being more like ‘Sunday Relief’ (even though preferring the five-day week to the two-day weekend is, mathematically, a victory).

I’m not alone in this fear, apparently. Research from the Marmalade Trust found earlier this year that 45 per cent of respondents had made up weekend plans – think, fake pub trips and nights out on the town – in order to seem busier than they were (you wonder how many weekend plans could have been formed if people just instigated plans rather than faking them…).

For me, the fear of an empty weekend was self-imposed, albeit probably compounded by being single and living alone. When you live with a partner or family, there’s at least some degree of built-in socialising. However, the grass is always greener, and thankfully, it didn’t take a visit from the Ghost of Weekends Future to realise that. I’ve already learnt from past experience (the memory of feeling self-conscious that my ex-boyfriend and I had spent one too many weekends watching The X Factor), and anecdotal experience (the parent friends’ weekends are dictated by a never-ending succession of children’s parties), that my blank canvas of a weekend was – is – a privilege, just one that’s a little trickier to (allow me that metaphor once more) ‘paint’.

There’s no perfect formula for a weekend, however much you might be fooled by the dating app Hinge, where one of the most popular questions or ‘prompts’ is ‘My ideal Sunday is…’ (spoiler alert: 99% of single Londoners, myself included, enjoy flat whites/brunch/roasts/Hampstead Heath). Ultimately, what constitutes your ‘perfect weekend’ depends on myriad factors – how introverted/extroverted you are, which activities most relax you, whether you like to party – it ages me just to write that – and what you’re actually looking to counterbalance after the working week. As tempting as it can be to approach your weekends reactively (I need to be busy! I can’t be boring! I feel guilty! I should exercise! I should be having fun!), it pays to tune into those questions first.

My weekends are full again. More than that, they’re reflective of who I am, and how I like to spend my time. Obviously, it varies from weekend to weekend - but in general I’ve reestablished grounding routines; rhythms of socialising; healthy boundaries; and things to look forward to. Here’s what’s worked for me:

• Family time. I’m lucky that my immediate family, and some of my extended family, live within a half-hour train journey of me. Spending time with them, particularly Friday Night Dinner at my parents’ house (one of my favourite aspects of Judaism), feels like an exhale, punctuating the shift from ‘work week’ to ‘rest’.

• Attending the same exercise class. While I’ve written about this before, I’m religious, in a more secular way, about the yoga inversions class I do at 8am on Saturday mornings, which is far from easy, but led by an incredibly-supportive teacher and attended by an equally-supportive crowd of regulars. Is this everyone’s idea of fun? Maybe not, but it sets me up for the weekend (as does the extra-hot oat chai latte I buy on my walk home).

• Reading time. Generally, I’ll spend the rest of my Saturday catching up on long-reads from The Times/The New York Times/FT Weekend, plus my favourite Substack newsletters like

  Leslie Stephens
  Morning Pages,
  The Hyphen by Emma Gannon
  ,
  Well, Actually...by Lauren Clark
  &
  The Shift With Sam Baker
  .

• Regular rituals. Including the Times crossword and my usual daily meditation with Calm.

• Writing a weekly schedule on Sunday nights. While I keep a Google Calendar, planning out my week on a paper planner every Sunday evening, plus various ‘To Dos’ (e.g. gifts to buy, meals to plan) and reminders gives me a sense of order for the week ahead.

• Cooking at home. As much as I love cooking easy meals during the week, it’s generally a hurried, post-work affair. I’ve started eating out a lot less (not least because of the cost of living) and cooking a lot more from scratch at home – either for friends or in bulk for the rest of the week; leftovers are a microwaveable gift from Present Me to Future Me.

• Making multiple plans. I used to consciously under-plan my weekends, for fear of rushing around too much but, actually, I’m going through a period of my life where ‘more is more’ when in comes to social plans – once again, I’m nurturing that inner extrovert, given the ample amount of time alone I already get throughout the weekend by virtue of living by myself (plus a whole lot of solitary writing). Obviously, back-to-back plans are absurd – but I’m not longer wary (as I once was) of making more than one social plan on a weekend day, as long as there’s some downtime in between.

• Suggesting last-minute plans. It’s so easy to fall into the mindset of ‘Everyone’s booked up for the next month’ (perhaps this is more of a London phenomenon), but recently some of my favourite times have come from simply checking in during the week for low-key, spontaneous plans. Sometimes it pays to just say, ‘Hey, I’m around this Sunday if you fancy doing something’. Worst case scenario, it will pave the way to hang out another time.

• Hosting friends. Living alone is great – but one of the major perks is filling your space with people you care about. Whether it’s a languid brunch or a candlelit dinner, having people over – the preparation, the time together, the afterglow of company – is one of my favourite weekend activities.

• Being active. For some, weekend relaxation is about sofa time – or recovering from a gruelling week-round fitness regime. Meanwhile, I have the constitution of a Labrador; getting some form of exercise is basically essential to my mental wellness (and it doesn’t hurt my physical health, either).

• Keeping to regular bedtimes. God that’s a boring admission, but I’ve spent too much of my life battling insomnia to tolerate weekend jet-lag. If the night out goes on until 4am, I’m probably not coming.

• Unplug (for a bit). Another thing my religion gets right. Jews are the OG Digital Detoxers, typically switching off their phones (and all machines) from sunset on Friday ‘til sunset on Saturday. While I’m not quite that extreme, a couple of hours of phone-free time goes far.

And some crowd-sourced suggestions:

• ‘Having one “anchor” social event per day then fitting working out and reading around that.’

• ‘Having hobbies where I don’t need to rely on other people like going to a meditation class.’

• ‘Only hanging out with people I feel properly connected to, rather than just acquaintances. Living alone, I need that strong connection.’

• ‘Finding nice places to eat that at cosy/comfortable for solo people is a great way to start.’

• ‘I ask myself what do I want to prioritise? Is it rest/exercise/socialising/discovering new places? I plan in one 'big' thing for each day - might be a walk, dinner, or getting out to a new coffee shop, and take it from there! I then feel like I've achieved something by Monday.’

• ‘Allowing myself time for the thing I’ve been craving all week, for instance a Sunday lie-in.’

What does your perfect weekend look like?

• Do you like routine or spontaneity?

• What relaxes you?

• What’s your most fun weekend activity?

• What do you struggle with at weekends?

• Has your attitude to weekends evolved over time?

Share your experience in the comments section below!

Enjoyed this? Here are some past issues of The Shoulds to check out:

Issue #33: Putting down roots (after a year spent avoiding commitment)

Issue #35: 5 loneliness 'cures' that have nothing to do with other people