I’ll never forget being at the wedding of a dear friend from college about four years ago. Another friend’s mom asked me if it was hard to be single at these weddings, as this friend was one of the last remaining “single people” with me. I smiled and answered politely, and then carefully made my way to the bathroom where I sat and cried for… well, long enough.
As I was sitting on a bench in the lovely bathroom of the wedding venue, the groom’s mom walked in. I was the first thing she saw when she walked in. She looked like royalty in her long, flowing mother of the groom dress. She sat down next to me and patted my back as I cried. I’m not sure that we ever discussed why I was crying, and to this day, I wonder if she thinks it was because I was in love with her son who was now a husband. (I was not.)
Being single at any phase of life is strange. If you’re anything like me, this is how it goes:
In high school, it’s weird because your friends are starting to date. And you either date with them and you’re all in the same boat, or you’re the single one while everyone else has the cute baseball player boyfriends.
Then comes college, where you meet guys who are (hopefully) more mature than high school boys. Some of my friends dated guys they ended up marrying, and some had unrequited crushes that lasted our whole four years of school. I think you learn a lot about what you’re looking for in these years, and you learn a lot about what you don’t want.
Then, post-college years, the pals start getting married. I had a season where I went to a wedding almost every weekend for months. I would go to these weddings with friends and always had a great time. Until most of my friends were married, and I’d tag along with a couple or fly solo for the night. After a few years of this, the second the first few beats of “Single Ladies” by Beyonce came on… you better believe you could find me conveniently making my way to the bathroom. I did not want to be singled out. I didn’t want to catch a bouquet anymore. I loathed being pushed from behind by all my married friends out onto the dance floor. So I just hid instead. It seemed like a good idea at the time.
And here we are. It’s 2020. We’re alive in a time of a global pandemic. We hear a lot of phrases like “these unprecedented times” and “when things return to normal.” But if you’re single, this time can serve as a magnifying glass for the things you don’t have:
Now, I know marriage and kids don’t solve everything. I do. But I also think now is a great time to know that just because your stage of life might look different but it doesn’t mean it’s bad. What if our perspective could shift? From looking at all the things we don’t have to being grateful for the things we do have.
Single friends: It’s weird. It just is. Most especially if you live alone. How your life is different than your friends doesn’t define you. Reach out to your people. Schedule FaceTime dates. Have a small crew that you quarantine with and see regularly. Make plans the best you can right now.
Married friends: Don’t forget your single friends. Check on them. Ask how they’re doing. Invite them to come have dinner if you’re bringing a few people in. They want to be part of your world, even if they don’t know how to ask.
Singleness in times of Coronavirus. We weren’t made to be alone. Wherever you find yourself today, you’re not alone, friends. If you need help, reach out and ask.
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