Not Every Unmarried Person is Unhappy

I haven’t written about singleness in a while. The last of it was my Frog Hunting dating podcast. For all its complexities, I never feel single living in Los Angeles.

Recently, I went to visit with family for three weeks (working remotely has its perks) and while very few people asked me about my marriage or dating plans—there was something in the air that made me very aware I was “odd” because of my unmarried status.

It might have been the fact I spent time with cousins while the small children overwhelmed the porch where the adults were sitting, consuming everyone’s attention so intelligent conversation was nearly impossible. We talked about sleeping schedules and diapers and tantrums.

There is nothing wrong with these types of subjects, in fact I engage in them regularly with my friends who are parents. It’s just not the only thing we talk about. And when they ask me questions about my very single, non-child life, there isn’t a sense that my life is “over there” and their life is “over here.” We’re both just living life—in all its complexities and commonalities.

When marriage or kids is the main subject of conversation, it’s easy to communicate a person without those things is lacking something.

When marriage or kids is the main subject of conversation, it’s easy to communicate a person without those things is lacking something. In such a world, you can almost hear the sigh of relief when a person whose been perpetually single announces they are dating someone. The unspoken message is, “Finally, I can accept you. Finally, you’re no longer weird.”

Next, I was at one of my sister’s house, eating brunch with my sisters and their significant others. While I’ve been the third tier of trios on a number of occasions, for some reason I was extremely aware—in the context of family—that I was the only one without a boyfriend.

Then one of my sisters announced she was having a baby. I screamed with joy and hugged her and my brother-in-law.

And I experienced a very extreme cognitive dissonance.

You see, a week earlier, I’d finished writing a book. The completion of this year-long endeavor was the reason I jetted over for a visit in the first place. I had a little extra time, and I was celebrating. While it’s not quite as involved as growing and birthing a human, it was a ton of emotional, mental, and physical work.

I realized in that moment of leaping for joy at my sister and brother-in-law’s news, that no one in my family would ever be that excited about my book.

To be fair, many more people have children than write books. It’s a common experience and easier to relate with. Most humans don’t understand the challenges and the work involved in writing a book. Without understanding, they’re more likely to say, “That’s nice,” out of ignorance, not malice or even selfishness.

[N]ot everyone who is single is living in a state of prolonged longing for something they want, but can’t have.

If someone is unhappy single, being placed in a category of “otherness” doesn’t help. I think it’s important to know, not everyone who is single is living in a state of prolonged longing for something they want, but can’t have.

There are folks who really love being single. There are folks who find the idea of marriage more challenging than remaining single. There are folks who even choose to remain single forever, or at least for a certain length of time. There has never been an era of time where choosing singleness has not been an option. In today’s era, an unmarried person is more likely to be head of household. You can never fully trust statistics on the internet, but the most recent survey I encountered said the single-person household makes up 54 percent of households.

That’s a lot of unmarried people.  

Sure, there are folks who will say this rise in singleness signifies the decline of America and the decay of family values. Those happy singles might be labeled selfish and relegated to a category of subspecies.

I personally think this is a win for culture, as the divorce rate is currently at 64 percent. There’s a chance we’ll see a decline in that rate the longer people stay single. I believe there’s less chance for someone to get married for the status or because of cultural pressure. There’s a chance more people will get married because they really want to, and not because it’s what’s expected (which was the case in the days of my grandparents). These are speculations on my part, but I’m fully committed to creating an environment where singleness is normal and where singles are viewed as complete humans.

“You complete me” statements from culture perpetuate this intimate relational need of people.

That need is real.

But marriage isn’t the only type of intimate relationship—nor should it be the only intimate relationship in a human’s life.

            Okay, sermon over.

I am planning an episode for the Uncertain podcast on singleness. I would love your contribution! To do so, click HERE.


Photo by Daniel Wirtz on Unsplash