The best thing about being single isn’t getting with whoever you want. I thought it would be when I first went through a break-up five years ago. You’ll find that a lot of people you fantasized about were just that, fantasies, and ones who aren’t actually very fun in real life. You’ll also probably find that you get with people less than you thought you would. It’s easier to flirt when you’re in a relationship, and there’s no chance of anything happening. Hinge is not an exciting buffet of romantic opportunity; it’s replying to some guy’s prompt about Succession, then messaging him for a few weeks about the show before one of you decides they can’t be bothered anymore and actually wants to concentrate on the TV show in front of them rather than their phone. Being single is still fun, it’s just not fun in the way that you thought it would be. It’s not about other people at all. It’s about the sort of person being single forces you to be, the life it makes you lead.
You have so much more time
When my ex and I broke up, I couldn’t believe how much time there was to fill. On Sundays—when we used to go for long walks together, sneaking pastries into our pockets to eat in the movie theater—there was just me, usually hungover, with a whole day of nothing ahead of me. On week days I’d finish work and there would be five hours to fill before bed. It was stressful at first—I felt so alone, wading through all that time—but now it feels luxurious. I have all this space for friends, for cheap dinners together under strip lighting, takeout on the floor of their living rooms. I can actually get to the bottom of my to-do list, to the line where it’s telling me to take those clothes to the charity shop. I can do whatever I want with my time, procrastinating all day and ending up going to the gym at 10 p.m. and eating dinner at 11 p.m., and it doesn’t matter because no one’s waiting on me.
You’re hotter
My friend put on her Close Friends the other day, “The longer I’m single, the hotter and more delusional I become,” and I thought, Same. When you’re with someone, you get comfortable. You wear sweatpants in front of them and pick at your spots, knowing that the scars aren’t that big of a deal. And that’s lovely, but—at the risk of sounding like a TikToker who’s about to tell you something horrible and dumb, like, “Look after your man or he’ll find someone better”—when you’re single, you do tend to put more effort in. You try out different hair colors, search for the perfect blazer on Pinterest, slather snail mucin on your face because it’s making your friend’s skin glow. Every time you go out into the world, you’re trying to show yourself off, and a lot of the time it is to attract other people, and a lot of the time it doesn’t work, but it doesn’t matter anyway, because it made you feel great. I really love what I wear nowadays, and how I present myself. I feel more confident than ever, and I want to always keep trying.
You have the bed to yourself
Even in the depths of heartbreak, one thing I was immediately grateful for was having the bed to myself. Starfishing with the duvet twisted between my legs, getting comfy and then immediately turning over so I could enjoy the process of getting comfy a second time. To me, my bed is almost a sentient being. My mattress is perfect—the parents of someone else who rented this room must have brought it here or something. I bought this silk pillowcase because it’s better for your skin and hair. I’m so glad she’s all mine.
You don’t have to consider someone else’s feelings
You can like pictures on Instagram that you want to like. You can leave the dirty sheets on the bed for another night. You can send that guy feet pics. You can stay inside on the sunniest day of the year without anyone questioning your decision, without anyone even knowing. You can go out in a storm even though the news said you shouldn’t and no one will worry about you, or get annoyed that you made them anxious. You can sit on that guy’s knee, get home late, and bang around the room trying to find your pajamas without waking someone up.
You have so many stories
You might think that you don’t have any gossip, that your life is boring. But have you ever noticed how keen people in relationships are to see your Hinge? How much more you end up talking about your own life when you spend time with people? The date you went on where the guy DJed at you. The other one you had to leave after 20 minutes because he told you he had a kid. They don’t seem like much to you, nothing more than dispatches from a desolate dating landscape, but to people in relationships, this stuff is so juicy; it’s zesty with life. Try and see that side of it for yourself.
Your standards get higher
When it’s really good being on your own; when you’ve been to a Greek island and lain on a sunlounger with nectarine juice dribbling down your chin, with nothing but the gentle lapping of the sea to keep you company; when your hangover ritual is lying on the sofa with a heated blanket on your stomach while watching a film that your friend said was good; when you’re really happy, it will be hard for someone to come into your life and interrupt it unless they’re really, really worth it. They will have to add something and not take it away. So someone who undermines you, who makes you feel insecure or unstable, who just isn’t that funny, they’ll get cut off—and you’ll carry on being happy.
Relationships take so much work
People always say that when you’re with the right person it should be easy. I personally have never seen a relationship that looks that way. They might not argue, but then they’re not having sex. One of their careers isn’t going well, and they resent the other one. It’s hard enough making sure you’re happy, but now you have to think about the happiness of someone else too, of your happiness as a unit. It’s so nice only having to think about yourself.
You have fewer arguments
When you do something annoying, you don’t have to worry about someone else’s response to it; you can just choose to not let it bother you and move on. Like when I was in Greece and I missed the ferry to the island I was going to and had to pay another €30 for a ticket. Or when I was late to the theater and they wouldn’t let me in to see the show. There’s no roaring fallout, there’s just me taking a deep breath and saying, “It’s okay.”
You’re more likely to say “yes”
When you know there’s someone at home in bed for you to cuddle, the thought of staying in, of going home early, is always tempting. When you’re single, there’s less to hold you back. You’re probably out with the people you love already, and they’re the ones telling you to get into the taxi with them. It means you end up in crazy places, eating mushroom chocolate on a rickshaw to South London with this girl you just made friends with, at a gallery that shouldn’t be open but someone who works there has brought you all back to party. Sometimes, on the way home, you think, What the hell was that? But a lot of the time you’re laughing, and even if you do regret it, it’s a lesson. You’re making mistakes, you’re learning. Each week it feels like you wake up a slightly different, wiser person. You’re filling up with experiences, and you’ll wear them in the lines by your eyes, the scuffs on your jeans.