Single, Not Waiting: Letting Go of the Fantasy and Embracing a Life That's Already Yours

From fairy tales to romantic comedies, many of us grew up absorbing the same message: one day, someone would come along, fall in love with us, and we'd live happily ever after.

And somewhere along the way, we may have learned that being chosen by someone else was an important measure of our worth.

Despite the enormous changes in women's lives, that message hasn't entirely disappeared. A woman can have a career, friendships, financial independence, and a life full of interests and experiences, yet still feel that something is missing because she doesn't have a partner.

And when a relationship ends, the loss can feel like more than losing someone we love. It can mean losing the future we imagined, the reassurance of being wanted, and perhaps even a little of our sense of worth.

But what if being single isn't a problem to solve? What if we stopped treating singlehood as a temporary state to endure until our real lives begin? What if, instead of waiting to be chosen, we began asking what kind of life—and what kind of relationships—we actually want?

This isn't about giving up on love. It's about recognizing that a meaningful, connected, fulfilling life doesn't have to wait for a partner.

The Shame of Being Single—and the Freedom to Choose

Perhaps part of the shame of being single comes from a culture that has historically taught women to measure their success, desirability, and worth by their ability to attract and keep a man. Even as women's opportunities have expanded, those messages haven't entirely disappeared. We may be financially independent, educated, and professionally successful, yet still carry the belief that not having a partner means something is wrong with us. For some women, being single can feel almost like a public declaration of being unwanted. Underneath that shame may be another fear: What if nobody ever chooses me?

But there's another way to look at being single. For much of history, women's economic security, social standing, and opportunities were closely tied to marriage. In many places, women had limited ability to own property, earn an independent living, or make important decisions about their own lives. And while significant progress has been made, the freedom to choose whether to marry, whom to marry, or whether to leave a marriage is still not equally available to all women.  When we remember that history, being single today can begin to look less like a failure and more like a freedom previous generations fought hard to make possible.

Of course, not everyone experiences singlehood as a choice, and wanting a romantic relationship is nothing to be ashamed of. But perhaps we can question why the absence of a partner has so often been treated as the absence of something essential.

The Husband Lottery and the Fantasy of Happily Ever After

A friend once said to me, “Neither you nor I won the husband lottery.” Her words landed with an uncomfortable truth. Like many women, I grew up imagining a loving partner, emotional intimacy, shared adventures, someone to lean on when life became difficult, and someone to grow old with. And there can be real grief in realizing that the life we imagined isn't necessarily the life we've experienced.

But there's something worth questioning about the fantasy itself. We often compare the worst parts of being single with the very best of what we imagine a romantic relationship could be. We compare our loneliest evenings with the fantasy of having someone who will always be there to comfort us, support us, and make us feel loved. We're comparing the reality of one life with the idealized version of another.

Yet being married doesn't guarantee being loved well. In my counselling work, I've heard single people wish they had a partner to support them through life's difficulties. I've also heard married people describe how deeply they wish their partners would offer that very same support. I remember a time when I would wake up feeling sad or lonely and immediately think, If only I had a partner, I wouldn't feel this way. But when I was in a relationship, I still had mornings when I woke up feeling sad or lonely. The difference was that I no longer attributed those feelings to being single. The feelings hadn't changed. The story I told myself about them had.

Perhaps what we're really longing for isn't simply a partner, but the experience of being understood, cared for, supported, and emotionally connected. Romantic relationships can offer those experiences, but so can friendships, family, pets, and community.

We can grieve the romantic relationship we imagined without concluding that we've missed out on a better life. And we can want love without believing it is the answer to every loneliness, fear, and uncertainty.

Perhaps the harder question is this: Have I been looking to love not just for companionship, but for relief from being human? Romantic relationships can bring joy, intimacy, comfort, and connection. But they cannot spare us from loneliness, uncertainty, grief, or the ordinary struggles of being alive.

The Joy of Being Answerable to Yourself

We spend so much time talking about what single women are supposedly missing that we rarely talk about what they might be gaining: the freedom to decide how you spend your time, where you go on vacation, how you spend your money, and whether you want to spend an entire Sunday reading a book without considering anyone else's preferences. Sometimes freedom looks like travelling the world. Sometimes it looks like eating peanut butter straight from the jar with a spoon and calling it dinner. No meal planning. No dishes. No one asking, “What's for dinner?” And there's something rather wonderful about that.

Being single can also create space for parts of ourselves that sometimes get pushed aside in relationships. Friendships that deepen over years. Hobbies we pursue simply because we enjoy them. Adventures we take without waiting for someone to accompany us. Quiet evenings that feel peaceful rather than empty. And perhaps one of the greatest pleasures is learning to enjoy our own company. Not because we've given up on finding someone, but because we've stopped treating our own company as something less valuable than someone else's.

Of course, being single doesn't mean having no responsibilities, and not every moment of independence feels liberating. But perhaps we can stop judging singlehood by its loneliest moments and start appreciating the many ways it can be rich, pleasurable, peaceful, and deeply satisfying.

The Freedom From Carrying Everyone Else

Although we've made considerable progress toward gender equality, we haven't entirely freed ourselves from the expectations of a patriarchal society. Women may be encouraged to pursue careers, earn money, and contribute equally to household finances while still being expected to carry much of the domestic and emotional labour of family life.

And it's not just about cooking or cleaning. It's remembering appointments, anticipating everyone's needs, organizing family life, and noticing what needs to be done before anyone else does.

Many people are fortunate to have partners who share these responsibilities equitably, but for women in relationships where those responsibilities aren't shared fairly, having a partner can sometimes mean having more work, not less. Being single can mean freedom from managing another adult's needs, moods, expectations, and responsibilities. It can mean having more control over your time, your home, and your emotional energy. And that freedom can feel extraordinary.

When Being Wanted Feels More Important Than Being Treated Well

Sometimes the desire to be chosen can become so powerful that we lose sight of whether the relationship is actually good for us. We may find ourselves trying harder when someone pulls away, becoming more invested when they're inconsistent, or feeling particularly drawn to someone whose affection seems difficult to earn. And when that person finally offers us attention or affection, the relief can feel intoxicating.

He wants me. I must be enough.

But being chosen by someone doesn't necessarily mean being loved well by them. And the intensity of wanting someone's approval doesn't necessarily tell us anything about whether they're a good partner. Sometimes what feels like extraordinary chemistry may be tangled up with uncertainty, longing, or the hope of finally receiving the love and acceptance we've been searching for. We may not simply be trying to build a relationship. We may be trying to resolve an old question about our worth. And that's a great deal of power to give another person.

From Being Chosen to Choosing

There's something remarkable about how much energy we can spend wondering whether a man likes us. Does he find me attractive? Did I say the wrong thing? Why hasn't he texted? Is he losing interest? And somewhere in all that wondering, we can forget to ask a much more important question: Is this person capable of offering me the kind of relationship I actually want?

Not whether he likes me. Not whether I can convince him to like me. Not even whether I'm attracted to him or feel that intoxicating spark. But whether he's a good human being, whether our values align, and whether he's capable of offering the mutual care, respect, and emotional intimacy I'm looking for.

It takes a very good man to be better than no man. When we've built a life we enjoy, with meaningful relationships, interests, independence, and the freedom to make our own choices, a romantic partner isn't someone we need to rescue us from being single. He's someone we're considering inviting into a life that already has value.

A Life That Doesn't Have to Wait

What kind of life would I create if I stopped worrying about whether someone would choose me? Perhaps we'd spend less time wondering why someone hasn't called and more time thinking about where we'd like to travel. Perhaps we'd invest more deeply in friendships, pursue interests we've been putting off, or discover pleasures we hadn't realized were available to us.

Perhaps we'd stop treating our single years as the space between relationships and start recognizing them as years of our lives that deserve to be fully lived.

There is a particular grief in releasing the life you expected to have. Not necessarily because your life is bad, but because it is different. Sometimes healing isn't learning to stop wanting love. Sometimes it's making peace with the fact that life did not unfold exactly as you imagined.

None of this means we won't sometimes feel lonely. We might still wish we had someone to curl up beside at the end of a difficult day, someone to share the ordinary moments with, or someone who knows us in that particular way a loving partner can. We can want those things without believing our lives are incomplete without them. Romantic love is one way to experience connection, intimacy, and belonging, but it isn't the only one.

We don't have to give up on finding love. We don't have to pretend we don't want it.

We don't have to postpone our lives until it arrives. 

But we do need to stop waiting to be chosen and start choosing the life we want to live.

Exploring Your Own Patterns

Sometimes knowing that our worth isn't determined by whether someone chooses us is very different from actually feeling that way. If you find yourself struggling with loneliness, self-worth, unfulfilling relationship patterns, or the fear of being alone, counselling can offer a space to explore where those feelings come from and begin developing a different relationship with yourself.

You don't have to stop wanting love to begin feeling more secure in who you are.

If you'd like support, I invite you to reach out for a free consultation.