I think there’s a pre conception that you should either love or loathe living the life of a singleton when in truth, its just not that simple an answer. The life of a singleton is much more grey matter than black and white and as Ronan Keating would sing in his slightly nasally but equally as love voice… its a “rollercoaster” of emotions. I’m guilty for this as much as the next single person – my Twitter feed reads like I’m some bipolar relationship person – one minute I’m happy sat in bed with my puppy with sudocrem on my spots and watching Breaking Bad without all that man drama, the next I’m practically begging for one of my followers to come and spoon me just to feel that male presence.
We have the likes of Beyonce telling us that we need to be independent women – buy the shoes on our feet, the watch you’re wearing, when its all over please get up and leave, I depend on me… QUESTION? But then, Beyonce’s married though and as far as we know has been smooching with Jay Z since she was rocking braids in the Say my Name Video so is she really the best endorsement for “all the single ladies”? (SORRY BEE Y’ALL KNOW I LOVE YOU!) And then we have Bridget Jones and the ladies from Sex & the City – the ultimate single girls heroines, happy in their own skin, successful, surrounded by friends, rocking killer heels and even hotter outfits but then still…they’re determined to bag themselves a man in order to complete that “perfect life puzzle” (I can’t even think about poor Bridge and the whole Mark Darcy dying fiasco – HOW COULD YOU HELEN FIELDING?)
Whilst drinking with a friend the other night I likened being single to being drunk. You know how when you go through different stages of being drunk? The happy drunk, the sad drunk, the thoughtful drunk – well those stages of drunk are essentially the stages of being single.
Is the bottle of singleton wine half full or half empty…?
Well…I suppose that depends how much of the wine you’ve drunk.
When you first start on the bottle of wine you’re all about being single and fabulous, EXCLAMATION POINT. You don’t need a man. You have your girls, all the lipsticks that Boots can sell and you have a bottle of wine. What more do you need? Certainly not a bed cover hogging, game playing, confusing and generally smelly man.
As you work your way through the second glass of wine you become increasingly aware of the number of couples that are scattered around the bar you’re in. Especially those who are obviously enjoying the giddyness of a first date. Coy smiles, laughing, those little tell tale excuses to touch eachothers arms/legs. That feeling right there? Jealousy, and a little bit of longing.
The third glass of wine results in you eyeing up the cute bar man who you’re sure undercharged you for your round so he must like you, the man on the table opposite you with the good facial hair and Robert Pattinson jawline, the bloke you brushed against when you were making your way to the toilet who was wearing your favourite aftershave, the 4ft 5 bald man with jam jar glasses, a Craig David style beard, Kappa tracksuit, missing all his front teeth and exudes the scent of public toilets…. time to stop drinking?
Hitting the next bottle you decide to one eye your phone and send a text to your latest crush who doesn’t really know you exist, because you’ve gotten pretty drunk confident and it seems like the best idea at the time. You’re also pretty in need of some male attention and the 4ft 5 bald mans girlfriend has just come back from the toilet so you’re out of luck there.
Stumbling into a taxi via the takeaway and find yourself sitting in bed eating a kebab with your makeup smeared half way up your face whilst listening to Late Night Love Affair with a sneaking suspicion that the guy you booty called probably won’t reply. Ever.
Because that’s single life for you.
There are days when you cherish a bed to yourself, being in control of the remote and not having to share a family sized bar of Dairy Milk but on the flip side there are times when that “alone time” makes the nights seem longer and everything in your relatively sorted life seems a little duller. Where you want someone taking up space on your side of the bed because they have their arms wrapped around you. You want to lie on them on the sofa while they have the remote in one hand flicking through the channels one the other stroking your hair. You want someone to share the calories of a chocolate bar with you DESPITE them insisting that it doesn’t matter how much chocolate you eat because you’re beautiful anyway.
Sometimes being single is all down to your state of mind and can often be as confusing as watching Inception after a couple of glasses of gin so please do bear this in mind if I happen to give you a bit of opinion whiplash.