Until I halted dating anyone else, I hadn’t realised how much dating had dominated most of my conversations. Perhaps that sounds a little self-absorbed, but I wasn’t talking to an unwilling audience.
The non-single people especially were always intrigued. “Who are you dating right now?” They asked. “What’s your latest dating horror story?” As they rubbed their hands together excitedly for the details. I exaggerate of course, well, kind of. But I gladly regaled my dating faux pars, successes and woes, and took on their advice. They, happily listened and requested more details.
So, what’s the issue?
It wasn’t until I went single no mingle, that I came to realise that by making who I was dating a highly discussed topic, I had inadvertently sent the message to myself that nothing else was more conversation worthy than this as single person. And if nothing else was as interesting, then nothing I had to say that wasn’t about when or who the next date was lined up with, mattered much.
We are all fascinated by love, and what’s even more attention worthy than the finale, is the lead up.
However, I can say this from experience. Unless we mix up that conversation a bit, no single person is ever going to feel that good about being single, because their value add to a conversation is tied so heavily to them dating and therefore actively trying to not be single anymore. And it’s unlikely those in relationships will ever come to understand how amazing a phase of single can be unless we talk about something else other than the theoretical, nearly, almost, such a shame, diabolical, thank god that didn’t work out, someone else’s.
Single people are so much more than who they are dating
Although when you declare “I’m just doing me right now” in answer to a, Who are you dating? question, it does seem to lose the audiences interest. That’s when you take a good hard look at your single self and think, ‘Is who I’m dating, really that important?’
No. Of course not. That was a rhetorical question.
Single is just a relationship status and so being single doesn’t define someone as a person
I am so much more than single. I am someone who loves to run, go on adventures and travel. I started this blog and I’m (attempting) to write a book. I’ve had a successful career in the travel industry. I am a daughter, granddaughter, niece, friend and an aunt. I’m obsessed with anything that contains sugar, and carbs are my true soulmate. I enjoy long walks in the countryside with my dogs. Music is good for my soul. I hate heights, yet I still forced myself to climb the O2 and freefall drop from 180ft in a warehouse in Sheffield. I’m direct, to the point, and quite literally unable to hide what I think or feel as my expressive face is a terrible tell.
I am multi-faceted, relationship or no relationship, I am defined by these aspects, and not my relationship status. Although, my singledom did become this one overriding character trait of who I was. When the truth is that it was just a status of time. Who I am fundamentally as a person are the things that matter way more than who I am dating right at that moment in time, whether its myself, or someone else.
This is why when conversations revolve mostly around who we are dating, it goes against this very fact. It argues that actually, we are not defined by all these other things, we are defined by who we are dating. That, is the most important conversation to have. And that’s exactly why I’m arguing this point that dating chat should be downcast in its place of importance.
Why is dating such a big interest, in particular for those coupled?
Perhaps people are being kind, showing an interest. Maybe, for some. I air towards it being because we’re all taught that partnership is something we should be doing, therefore if someone is single, it must be priority 101 to lock down a relationship a.s.a.p. and hence a necessary conversation point to collaborate on what’s happening, and provide some essential peer led advice to help make it so. And who better to give that advice than your coupled up friends.
My keen sense of realism also thinks it provides reassurance to those in relationships. “See, single is so much worse guys. Your partner isn’t perfect but you’re good where you are. At least you’re not single and facing these dating scene dramas on a daily basis.”
Personally, I think the real reason people ask about those dating experiences is to have their say. People love to help. And the conundrum of ‘How and Why are you still single?’ is a mystery people love to try and solve.
Why are relationships such a key part of the single conversation?
And, because we make it so.
Whilst relationships are so highly valued, single is forever going to be regarded in society as a problem, and your people are going to be ready and eager to offer solutions. But just because their intentions come from a good place, doesn’t mean that those intentions aren’t feeding the negative narrative surrounding singledom any less.
The fact people almost instantly lead with, “Dating anyone?” in a conversation with a single person, projects the message that if we aren’t, we should be. If we are, and we are still single, what is it that’s wrong with us and how can they help fix it (you)?
It highlights how much we view partnership as an important milestone to have achieved, therefore making any other accomplishments feel worthless without a relationship to present in tandem. So this whole conversation for me now, is a big, No.
The privacy imbalance
Also, there is a severe lack of boundaries within conversations with single people. Single people seem expected to relay their dating tales with zero held back. For singles, all sense of entitlement to privacy is removed. Exciting hey. Well, at least for those listening. It’s a no details left to spare situation, and if you do try and keep something for yourself, those listening will just dig deeper.
Apparently it’s totally okay for people to ask about their single friends latest crappy date, or delve fully into the intricate personal details of their love life. And they’ll use those stories as bemusing entertainment to relay to others, “You’ll never guess what happened to Carla.”
Yet I wonder if a single person asked a married couple when they last had sex, whether one of them did something crazy mid-way through, or whether their husband was well endowed or not, I wonder, whether that conversation would be received as politely as a single person takes on these invasive questions which appear to have no limits?
Why oh why, do single people oblige?
Well, I have a theory on this. Here it is.
For women, marriage and babies are still highly regarded as the way to go. Therefore for a single woman, their achievements are devalued if they are achieved without marriage or children. Whether they are working hard at their career, personal growth, lifetime aspirations, travelling the world or curing cancer. No milestone is hailed quite so much as meeting Mr/Mrs Right and making fourteen beautiful children with them.
Single people feel the weight of this. I know, because I felt it.
It’s a sort of shame that I wasn’t doing life in the way in which women are expected too, accompanied by a desire to make up for that unacceptable status with some act to elicit acceptance. And so I obliged with indulging an audience with the most intimate of details shared. Because it was a weird kind of acceptance I got from it, in providing juicy details on what it was like to be dating. The funny – and sometimes downright depressing – stories about my dating experiences, seemed to distract and make up for the fact I was single. I suppose I entertained them, in a way. And in doing so, created a sense of worth to my singleness.
It might be that on occasion, the individual didn’t feel that way about my singleness. But no-one can argue that collectively, society does. However, not creating boundaries around my privacy came at the expense of devaluing my even further.
Everyone is entitled to their privacy. If a person isn’t wiling to share in the same way, they shouldn’t be asking someone for anything different.
Singles chatting with singles
I look back and wonder why my own conversations within the single friends crowd always came back to who we were dating. Likely, a hint of PTSD and a need to offload in a safe place around people who got it. Maybe a little to do with the fact that deep down all of us wanted a relationship, it’s why we were dating after all. And whilst that was perfectly okay, it still seems weird to me how much affect the belief we have that seeking one, should be the most important thing we do with our single time, and therefore a top priority on the list of conversation topics.
Was it all we had to talk about? Fuck, no. Was it mostly what we discussed? Hell, yes. But why?
Personally, for me as a single person, it came down to feeling that that was all I had to offer. My dating life, was my life. Nothing else was more conversation worthy than this very topic. And as I had put finding a relationship at the centre of my world, I’d made it my everything. My top ‘to do’ on the list of to do’s. Maybe for all of us in those conversations, we were in the same boat. Rowing madly towards the perfect person and hoping they would save us from our wretched singleness. Single and must find, so single and searching.
Of course for the singleton chats, it was also a safe space to air all the exasperation and frustrations
Anyone who has been single in the past decade, knows the standardized way to do it nowadays via online dating is hard AF. You can really only share this without judgment with your single buddies. You know they aren’t secretly thinking, “Thank god I met, Ted.” Or going to hit you with some, “But have you tried doing this to your profile?”, “Are you being too picky / difficult / setting too many standards?”. None of that trash talk in the single circles. They listen, they get it, they understand. I’m all for these conversations. Where there is a balance of intimate things being shared equally. They are cathartic and good for the soul.
So for me, single chats don’t need to become devoid of all dating chat, just offset with a good balance. Otherwise, we end up convincing each other that it’s the only conversation to be had.
Towards the end of my ‘Single Survive’ phase especially I was feeling really good about myself and realising that I had so much more to talk about than who I was dating
I was putting self-care at the top of my agenda. Reigniting my passions for old things I had once loved, and discovering joy in new hobbies. I put a lot of time and energy into writing, and launched this blog. Travelled with friends and by myself. Became a somewhat confident – yet very much still amateur – DIYer, whilst fixing up an old cottage. Started running, slowly and not for very far at first, but three years later and I’ve run my first marathon!
I always had these things going on whilst I was dating, but because dating had been put on such a fantastically high pedestal, nothing else had ever had a chance to reach the conversational top. Only when I stopped dating other people, and therefore couldn’t actually participate in a discussion about my dating life – as it no longer existed. Only then, did I see how much else there was to talk about. And in seeing it, I found the confidence to start speaking about something else in more detail. And realize how important it was to talk about these things that actually defined me as a person.
You are so much more than who you are dating, so change the conversation
I stopped talking about dating. And I stopped asking my single friends about their dating lives. I stopped asking who they were dating or how it was going. Of course if they brought up the conversation naturally, I’d talk. But I wouldn’t encourage it, I’d steer to other things going on.
It stopped keeping me in a place of feeling a need to explain or work towards resolving my singleness as if it was a cursed fate. No more, ‘I’m trying Susan, I really am!’ style explanations. No more earnest attempts to show my full commitment to the cause of rectifying my single status. I could just be single and not searching. Or single and not talking about who I was dating. Single, and it be an entirely unimportant factor of what else was going on with me.
Dating had taken up far too much of my time and attention
Thinking about who I was dating, where it was going, whether it was going well, and whether it should continue, became almost a full time job in itself. Hence why I gladly sought the opinions of others, allowed dating chat to over-ride everything else, and accepted the intrusive questions, happily obliging with tales.
Despite believing that I’d have nothing much else to talk about when I stopped dating other people, it was actually liberating to move away from the dating chat and have zero tales to tell or gossip to relay. I realized how much I had talked about it all, and in doing so, how much it had devalued me as a person.
Ditching the typical single dating style conversations, helped me discover how important I am. Who I was dating, was not more important than what else I was doing with my life in that moment. It was not more conversation worthy than achieving an aspiration, trying a new hobby, doing something that brought me joy, or tackling a different situation. Dating wasn’t ever the only thing going on in my life, but I had made it such a priority, that it used to be the main thing I spoke about. And in realigning my focuses, I reminded myself how much I had going for me.
Amy Roullier
Amy Roullier is a British writer and author of Silent Reflections of a Fragile Heart. For her, writing began as personal therapy and has evolved into a way to connect with others, posing questions and offering reflections that might help readers find clarity. Based in Lincolnshire, Amy is an occasional vegetarian and a dedicated lover of carbs—her true soulmate. She’s currently navigating a mid-life crisis through running, and mornings are simply impossible without coffee.