The Truth about being Single
It isn’t what you think it is.
There’s a scene in The Wedding Planner that I’ve always loved. Jennifer Lopez — wedding planner to the elite of San Francisco — returns home after a long and fulfilling day. She plates a nice dinner, pours herself a glass of Chardonnay, and sits down to enjoy Antiques Roadshow.
I can’t say exactly why, but that idea — ideal, really — of a single working woman has been stuck in my head since I was 11. Her contentment was palpable in that scene. No waiting by the phone, no scrolling, no swiping — just the contented alone time of an extremely capable woman in her own space.
I returned home from a twelve-day work trip exactly one week ago. I’ve been relishing my little home life since. I took down Valentine’s decorations, bought fresh flowers (cream roses, always), cleaned out my closet, and napped — so many naps.
Today I found time to run some errands, put away laundry, and make a dinner. My dog Beau tap-danced around the kitchen as I squeezed lemon on top of halibut. As I put the halibut in to bake, I got excited about sitting in “my” place on the couch and turning on my latest show — Victorian Slum House on PBS.
This little scene that I had created, unintentionally, took me back to that scene in The Wedding Planner. A single woman, the day’s work done, existing and enjoying her own space. At peace, and full of contentment.
Which got me thinking. The truth about being single is…that being single isn’t all that bad. I would even argue it’s pretty delightful, on occasion.
So why is “single” a four-letter word, whispered in shame and diminishment? Dating. It’s dating that is vile.
A novel idea. The next day I started to casually test this opinion out on friends and coworkers. Maybe being single isn’t actually a fate worse than death that haunts “expired” women, as sitcoms and romcoms would have us believe.
“Oh,” they stopped, taking this revelation into consideration. “Hmm.”
From where I stand*, being single is glorious. I spend (and save, and invest) my money as I see fit. I take last-minute trips to see friends without explanation or reason or a tag-along (except Beau, he’s always welcome). I make messes and clean them up, or not. I spend a ton of time with my family. I invest in my interests. I plan for my future. I’ve stopped playing the “well if this, then that” game with some fictitious future partner. And just like JLo in The Wedding Planner, I come home after a long but fulfilling day, make myself dinner, pour a glass of wine, sit down with my dog and watch Antiques Roadshow. And it makes me happy.
What doesn’t make me happy as a single person? Dating.
The day I (and you) decide that maybe — just maybe — I would enjoy spending time with someone else in a non-platonic way is the day that being single goes from being glorious to arduous. Welcome to the funhouse mirror wheel-of-death rollercoaster that is modern dating. The whole thing is an absolute farce. Suddenly my own companionship is no longer enough. So I go looking.
But of course, I don’t go out looking. There’s a pandemic on, you know (and now a war, but that’s beside the point.) I download Bumble, or Hinge, whatever, and sit on my couch with a bottle of pinot noir, swiping. I’m not looking, I’m window shopping.
Window shopping for “the one single person in the world who fills my heart with joy!”…as if it’s a work bag. Sturdy and reliable but attractive, and fits my lifestyle — and my laptop.
In reality, what I end up browsing is a lot of completely incompatible but otherwise nice normal guys who have also decided that they aren’t enough for themselves. The logo Coach bag that’s trying really really hard to present as a Louis Vuitton.
Who decided this was a good idea?! “I don’t feel worthy, but you know what would make me feel worthy? Another person who ALSO doesn’t feel worthy, so we can not feel worthy of our own love together! But it’s okay because I can totally give someone else love even if I don’t love and accept myself.” WHAT.?!
And that’s the worst part about being single. Your options are to:
1. Wait until you and Mr. Right (or Mrs. Right) reach for the same swiss chard at the farmers market and your hands graze and you stare into each other's eyes as your dog’s leashes become tangled…or
2. Sit at home alone swiping left on a bunch of guys who are 5'9", or named Steve, or have Goldendoodles.
Well, that got depressing quickly.
The truth about being single is that your best bet is to make the most of it. Just keep on keepin’ on. Keep on being single, fabulous, successful, happy, and watching Antiques Roadshow or Ancient Aliens or whatever floats your boat. Mattew McConaughey is y̶o̶u̶r̶ ̶n̶e̶x̶t̶ ̶c̶l̶i̶e̶n̶t̶ right around the corner, not a swipe away.
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*I am fully aware that “where I stand” is as a white, cis-gender woman living an upper-middle class life with no children, minimal trauma, and a plelthora of oppirtunities given to her from birth. I am immensely blessed, and I realize that this is not everyone’s situation.
Follow me on Instagram @californiacottages for a lot of cute houses and a lot of musings on single in suburbia.
