Its okay to have no plans on the weekend
from a chronic weekend planner
There’s a particular kind of dread that creeps in on a Friday afternoon when someone chirpily asks, “Got any plans this weekend?” and you realise your answer is, quite spectacularly, no.
No brunches booked. No meticulously planned pub crawls. Not even a vague coffee pencilled in with a friend who texts exclusively in voice notes. Just a wide, open expanse of unscheduled time stretching out in front of you like a question you’re not sure how to answer.
For years, I thought this meant failure. Weekends, I’d decided, were for maximising every possible social opportunity: cramming in dinners, drinks, markets, gym classes, and the kind of park walks that required a curated playlist and an iced coffee. If I wasn’t “making memories,” what was I even doing?
But here’s what I’ve learned: being alone isn’t the same as being lonely. And learning to like your own company is an underrated superpower.
Especially as you get closer to 25, when the allure of drinking every weekend starts to fade. The hangovers get worse, and the nights blur together, leaving you wondering if this is really the only way to spend your free time. It can feel lonely, watching everyone else still caught up in the cycle of pre-drinks, clubs, and kebabs at 3 a.m., like stepping off a merry-go-round that never quite stops spinning. But that space the quiet, sober weekends opens up room for things that actually fill you up.
A few years ago, I had no friends, and weekends stretched out in front of me like a wasteland. The silence wasn’t gentle or reflective; it was punishing. I tried to drown it out Netflix running on a loop, podcasts wittering away in the background, anything to fill the space that felt too heavy with my own company. It was hard. It was lonely. It was a little bit humiliating.
Then I made friends, and I thought, Great! Problem solved! Weekends will be full now, and I’ll never feel that creeping emptiness again. Except, obviously, that’s not how it works. There were still weekends with no plans, still evenings spent scrolling and waiting for a text that never came. I had people in my life, but that didn’t magically erase the fact that everyone else had their own schedules, their own people, their own priorities. It took me a long time years, actually to understand that being surrounded by people doesn’t guarantee you’ll never feel alone. That no matter how many group chats you’re in, the person you have to spend the most time with is yourself.
I still get the Sunday scaries. That creeping panic as I sit down and think, What am I supposed to do with the next 168 hours? What am I going to feel? What am I going to miss out on? But then, slowly, I learned to pause. To sit with the discomfort instead of running from it. To realise that the only way to stop fearing my own company was to start actually enjoying it.
It’s not about rotting in your pyjamas, eating cereal straight from the box, and scrolling TikTok until your thumb cramps (though, honestly, once in a while, that’s valid). It’s about reclaiming your time and letting yourself breathe. Maybe you finally read that novel that’s been gathering dust on your bedside table. Or you go for a meandering walk with no destination. Or you spend an entire afternoon making an elaborate pasta dish while dancing to your favourite sad-girl playlist. Or maybe you pick up a new hobby: pottery, running, or learning guitar and discover the quiet thrill of getting better at something, just for you.
The point is, you don’t need to be booked and busy to be fulfilled. And you definitely don’t need to be drunk to feel connected to your life. There’s magic in unstructured time in giving yourself permission to just exist without constantly reaching for something external to validate your day.
So the next time someone asks if you have plans for the weekend, try saying, “Nothing, and I can’t wait.” Watch how freeing it feels. And maybe, just maybe, lean into the bliss of your own brilliant company no reservations required.
About Twenty Five Reset
Hi, I’m Niamh, and everyone was right—25 really is a turning point. I finally know who I am, what I want, and my purpose… but it’s nothing like I expected.
I work in TV, but it doesn’t define me. This space is my reset—embracing the mess, reflecting, and creating again. You can expect:
Pop Culture and a lot of chats about 2000 - 2020 TV Shows
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I loved this post Niamh. My plans and schedule can sometimes take over so much of my brain space that I forget to just be in the moment. I am frantically thinking ‘what can I do next?’ or ‘how can I make the most of my time?’ which is also when I’m on the edge of burn out. Thank you for the reminder to slow down and be more present.
Having no plans on the weekend used to create so much anxiety for me! I’ve reframed this though to embracing that time and using it for me! Spending time resting, reading, creating and whatever else I feel like doing in the moment. I remind myself that a year from then I might not have the luxury of that time to myself, therefore enjoy it while you have it!