The Art of Being Single

by Jane Moneypenny

More often than not when someone finds out I’m single, their response usually falls in the area of pity and an optimistic comment.

“Oh, it’s okay. You’ll find someone soon.”


“It’ll happen when you least expect it.”

Last I checked, I didn’t indicate sadness or unhappiness at being single. If anything, I relish it. I’m okay with it, but it seems like others aren’t. As if it’s not normal to be single and okay with it at this age.

I haven’t had a serious relationship in 5.5 years. That may sound ridiculous, but I made a decision a long time ago that I was going to be single for myself and until I was confident standing on my own two feet, I was going to remain that way.

I’ve learned it takes a lot more confidence to be single than in a relationship. Like any normal girl, I’ve experienced the periods of insecurity, especially after being dumped. I can’t imagine entering a serious relationship with that kind of mentality again so I swore to work on myself and who I am alone and not as “John Doe’s girlfriend.”

Being alone doesn’t necessarily mean being lonely. There are always moments, of course (see Smallbone’s previous entry); it’s inevitable. When I’m sick, it’s just me coughing alone and wondering if I pass out, will someone know (see also Sex and the City episode about Miranda’s fear of choking to death and being eaten by her cat). Yet, I find it empowering to be on my own: my schedule, my decisions, my plans. Maybe that’s selfish. Or maybe it’s something every woman (or man) should do at least once in their life before rushing into a new relationship for the sake of being in one.

I’m not going to pretend that part of the reason I remain single is a fear of getting so caught up in a guy/relationship again that I lose myself or worry about being in a place where my emotions are reliant on another’s. So I hold fast to the idea that I must be a strong single independent ass-kicking woman so that it won’t happen again when I finally re-enter the boyfriend/girlfriend world.

A lot of my friends have serious boyfriends, engaged or married. Some even have kids. Hey, more power to them! But for me, at the tender age of 24, I think I’m doing okay on my own.