Can I Admit That I Hate Being Single

What if I want fries *and* guys to share them with?
Can I Admit That I Hate Being Single
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Don’t get me wrong: I’ll probably rock a Nacho Bee tee while listening to Lizzo “put the sing in single” and Ariana Grande vow that she “ain’t gon’ be no Mrs.” I love that our culture is now fully on the #SingleLife bandwagon, championing the awesome army of unattached women that’s only gaining strength in numbers (by 2030, 45 per cent of American women ages 25 to 44 will be single, according to a recent study). My friends and fam always tell me that I’m killing it soulmate-free because, hi, I am. I never have to share my popcorn at the movies, I live for chill nights vegging on my couch, and the only aisle I’m excited to walk down anytime soon is the one at ­Target packing all the ice cream.

But yeah, I also really, really want a relationship. And why is this so wrong??? Why does it make me seem like a traitor to single people everywhere? Or like I can’t say this out loud without being labeled an antifeminist who has failed to flaunt her fabulous free-agent status? How is it that admitting I might be even happier with a plus one.

Look, I know how privileged I am to even exist at a time when women aren’t socially obligated to be coupled up. I mean, if this were pre-1970, I wouldn’t even be able to sign up for a credit card without a husband’s signature. (Seriously.) Now, there are entire movements dedicated to raising women up. We don’t need to be girlfriends or wives to thrive, and that’s definitely worthy of cheering.

It doesn’t mean, though, that some women (read: me) don’t still want a partner to take late-night drives with. And send LOL memes to on the reg. And tag in romantic ‘grams from awesome weekends spent together. I’m sick of doing stuff alone. I crave the intimacy of having a ride-or-die. A few weeks ago, I was so starved for touch that I found myself hugging people for way ­longer than is socially acceptable (I am not proud of this, and also, if that was you, I’m sorry?).

Lately, though, I‘ve been asking myself: Isn’t the entire value of independence that you can do what you want? And I’m pretty sure being a feminist doesn’t mean I have to stay single to prove my power as a woman, right? So here’s my new MO: Lean in to what I know will make me happy. And never apologise for slaying as a solo queen while also looking for someone to share my throne.