A Night at the Orchestra – A Symphony of Friendship and Independence

by Meredith Siegel Cohen, Creator, Single and Striking Out

Music enhances our quality of life—it gives us a platform to daydream, motivation to move, comfort in sadness, and a soothing balm when we need to relax. This is what the orchestra is for me. When I go, which is not often, I settle in, take a deep breath, wait for the conductor to wave the wand, and then let the melody transport me wherever my mind desires. It is a gift for my senses.

For months, I’ve been telling myself that I need to start going to orchestra concerts on my own. But as the dates draw closer, I make excuses, particularly in the winter. It’s too cold. It’s raining. I’m tired. The show doesn’t begin until 8 p.m. and lets out around 10:30 p.m. The concert hall, where our nearest orchestra performs, is located downtown in a major city, and I never know where I’ll park. It’s a little unnerving to emerge from the theater alone and walk through city streets to a dimly lit parking lot. And so, my weekends typically follow this pattern: I look at tickets, hold off on purchasing, and then find some excuse for why I cannot attend.

Keeping with this cycle, I noticed that last Saturday night’s performance would feature Brahms, Mendelssohn, and Frank. Oh, how I wanted to go. But the familiar fear and resistance took over, securing me on this side of the bridge—until I spoke to my dear friend, who casually asked about my weekend plans. After my typical “not doing much” response, I returned the question. When she said, “Going to the orchestra,” I practically jumped out of my skin, nearly shouting—I was going to go too! Upon hearing this, she insisted I follow through on my original intention.

“Get a ticket now! We’ll meet you in the lobby—it’ll be fun!” she exclaimed.

So, I did it. Their presence was just the push I needed. I bought my ticket (which was so reasonably priced that I was convinced I’d be sitting behind a pole), got glammed up (well, my idea of ‘glam,’ which is probably more in keeping with the style of a young grandmother), and most excitedly, made my way into the city. My friend’s husband shared the location of their parking lot and assured me it was the easiest one from which to reach the theater.

Six levels up, around narrow, twisting corners, I finally found a spot (a little too quiet for my liking) and managed to meet them on time.

What a spectacular evening! It turns out there wasn’t a bad seat in the house, and I had an unobstructed view. Sitting next to two strangers wasn’t an issue, and I even enjoyed a brief chat with the woman to my right. Her diamond brooch practically winked at me, and when I complimented it, she shared that it was a bespoke piece, made for her in Sydney, Australia, to commemorate her 40th wedding anniversary. How special is that? I realized that I didn’t sigh with sadness but rather felt content and happy for her. I’m not sure why it didn’t stir my usual longing in that moment, but it felt like progress.

Before long, the lights dimmed, the conductor took her bow, and the music began. The first half of the evening featured a bright and original composition by the former Orchestra Composer-in-Residence. The second half showcased a young violinist who enchanted the audience with his seemingly effortless and captivating mastery of his craft. To think—I would have missed this!

Intermission was pleasant as I met my friends in the lobby, and I was grateful to walk back to the parking lot with them when the performance ended. They insisted on accompanying me to my car (which was on a different level than theirs), something I deeply appreciated, as the poor lighting and the distance of my car from the elevator were a little unsettling.

Safety is paramount for anyone venturing out alone at night, but especially for women. I recently came across some excellent general safety tips, which can be found in Ashley J. Long’s piece, Basic Street Safety for Women (https://www.instructables.com/Basic-Street-Safety-for-Women/). Having experienced two separate attacks, she offers invaluable advice. One tip struck me as particularly relevant in this day and age: When solo, it’s common to busy oneself by talking or texting on the phone. However, she warns against this, stating:

“A distracted person is an easy target. Just put the phone away. Your calls, texts, email, and social media can wait 10 more minutes. Messing with your phone means your eyes, mind, and hands are occupied.”

Excellent advice.

As I arrived home, I reflected on what a wonderful—albeit late—evening it had been. I considered the fact that I had met friends at the concert rather than truly venturing out solo. Did it ‘count’ on this journey of embracing my single life if I hadn’t spent the entire evening alone?

My answer? Absolutely!

Welcoming a solo chapter does not mean everything has to be done entirely by myself all the time. To me, it means enjoying life on my own terms. Sometimes, it undoubtedly means doing things as a party of one, but experiences are often made richer when shared with others. Having the ability to independently decide when and how I participate in events is the essence of being solo—it’s the autonomy that creates the harmony in this chapter of my life.

As spring approaches and the night sky delays its arrival, I look forward to venturing out for more enriching activities. Any suggestions for upcoming outings? I would love to hear what you enjoy and how you stay safe as a solo!