"So how come a nice girl like you is single?"

"Because fuck you, that's why."


As I rapidly approach my fortieth year, I realise that there is much to celebrate.  I have a nice apartment, I'm studying for my PhD - hellish as it can be, it's pretty interesting - I have great friends, a part-time job and I've achieved quite a lot of the things I wanted to achieve. I'm looking forward to finishing my doctorate and doing a bit more travel, I might actually get around to writing that novel I've been threatening to write since age 12, and hopefully, the economic climate and a nice academic job will mean that I can finally start driving and build my own place. So, all in all, I'm a relatively happy camper. Independent, enjoying my life, still crazy after all these years.

Still, the question I am most frequently asked is "So are you doing a line with anyone? No? Would you not get yourself a nice fella?" People who ask me this question are blissfully unaware of how insulting it is. They don't mean to be insulting, of course; they're asking without thinking so they can mentally slot me into a category they're familiar with. I'm and adult woman, therefore I must have one of these three things going on:

A) Have a boyfriend

B) Be married

C) Have children


I have realised that the polite way to answer this question is not the reply I have written above - no matter how much I want to say it. I'm usually frustrated enough to say that, because the truth is that the last three years of being single have been my happiest. Ever. When I realised that my long-term relationship was not going to work, I ended it, moved back home, found a new place to live and started applying for the PhD and the grant.  I reconnected with old friends and my family and danced with joy when my application to university was accepted. (PAH!! What a naive, trusting fool I was!) As difficult, financially, as that first year of living by myself was, I loved it. I woke up every day with Aretha Franklin in my bedroom doing jazz hands and singing "Freedoooom.....Freedoooooom, woah FREEEDOOOOOOMM" from Think. Candi Staton was in the kitchen singing "Young Hearts Run Free" and winking at me while I made toast and tea in my pyjamas.

There's a very strange assumption, usually made by people in couples (in my experience) that if you are single, there is something missing. If you're single and 37, you obviously must be tearing your hair out. I've been asked all manner of very personal questions by people, innocently trying to understand or ascertain why I'm single. I'm not alone; I have a few friends who are also single, and we constantly grumble about getting the worst seating at weddings. We get the Weird Table. You know the one, it was Table 13 in The Wedding Singer. We can't sit with all our friends who are in couples - and who are all laughing uproariously - while we get stuck talking to the weird uncle who's obviously still very much a virgin at 50, who keeps looking at our cleavage and being seriously inappropriate. The worst assumption is that if you're single, you must be desperate. If you go out with your friends and some kid who just learned to shave hits on you, and you completely ignore that, as any sane woman would, you're too picky. (This recently happened. I kid you not.) And if you spurn these advances enough - advances from guys that you'd think twice about saying "hello" to, never mind sleep with) then the "problem" of being single is yours, and you're being your own worst enemy.

Trying to explain that it is your choice to be single is rarely believed, either. I choose to be single until I meet someone whom I genuinely like. Who seems like good fun. Someone who's enjoying their life, has nice manners, likes Hammer Horror films and thinks that the British Museum is a really cool place to go. That's really it. I'm not waiting for some Mr. Darcy/James Bond/Prince Charming type of fictional character. That said, I'm also not going to waste any time on guys who I know from the get-go are not going to work out for me. I'm not going to ignore all I've learned for the sake of saying that I'm going out with somebody. Not even for a really kick-ass seat at a wedding.


Not everyone is suited to being single. It can be tough, having to fend for yourself. At times, I would certainly appreciate having another pair of hands around the house, to do the cooking/housework/washing/ while I tear my hair out over PhD rewrites. It would be great to have someone else take the time to pay the bills and do the food shopping. Especially when I'm sick. But even when I was in relationships, I never had all my needs met at the exact time that I had needs. It was hard work and compromise, if memory serves, not hearts and flowers and nurture all day.


 And I know this to be an inalienable truth - I was far more lonely in the wrong relationship than I have ever been, for any amount of time, in the single years.