I know being single isn’t ideal for some people but I absolutely love it. As addictions go, I think this is a pretty healthy one and I’m not looking to kick the habit anytime soon—here’s why.
I get to be selfish and not feel bad about it. I’m talking about the good kind of selfish—the kind where I’m prioritizing my career and my health over my relationship status. I get to spend free time doing yoga or having a few extra hours to type away at my computer, and I have absolutely no one accusing me of not spending enough time with them. (OK, maybe my dog, but that’s all.) Selfish isn’t a dirty word, it’s one you should embrace!
I can eat chocolate in bed for dinner. I spend my days adulting and that’s tiring. Sometimes I need to skip the kitchen and head straight to my bed, chocolate (and peanut butter) in hand. I can do that because no one is asking me, “What’s for dinner?” and expecting me to have some exciting answer. Speaking of my bed…
I don’t have to share my bed. My bed is actually my favorite place and I don’t want to share it. I can go to bed when I want, I can watch TV in bed all night without disturbing anyone, and I can have a bazillion blankets on without anyone complaining about being hot. Best of all, I can get the best sleep of my life because I don’t have to listen to snoring, and I can stretch and take up the entire bed. (Face it, you miss starfishing!)
I can (actually) Netflix and chill. Picture this: A guy slides into your DMs with the old Netflix and chill request. Before you know it, he’s gone from your DMs to your couch. Meanwhile, all you’re trying to do is catch up on the latest episode of Game of Thrones, but you didn’t want to tell people that you spent Friday night alone again. Screw that. The single life is where it’s at when it comes to Netflix. Turn on Netflix, actually watch Netflix, and relax. That’s all.
I can leave my dishes in the sink. If I don’t have time to wash my cereal bowl before I leave for work (read: move from the kitchen to the couch) then I don’t have to. Cereal bowl aside, I crave the spontaneity single life affords me. I can spend a month in Hawaii, buy a dog, forego shaving my legs, or spend the day in my PJs. I can choose to do—or not do—pretty much anything, and I’m the only person I have to consult with before I do.
I choose what and who to spend my time on. You know when your boyfriend comes to you with that look on his face and asks if you would mind coming to his coworker’s sister’s niece’s wedding? Ain’t nobody got time for that. I’ll spend that Saturday afternoon doing wine yoga with a facemask on, thank you very much.
I get so much personal space. I get an entire closet to myself and never have to worry about his shirts infringing on my sweater room. In fact, I get an entire house to myself. I don’t have to share the TV, the kitchen, the living room, or my bed (I think you know how important that one is to me by now). I’m in love with personal space and I’m not ready to give it up.
I can make and break plans. If you have plans with your boyfriend Friday night but then get hit with the period cramps from hell and feel like death, you’ll likely feel bad about canceling your plans. There’s no such guilt when you cancel plans on yourself. I do it all the time. I make a plan to go to the gym on Tuesday at 6 p.m. and then it rolls around and the hot tub beckons my name. No brainer—I cancel my plans and don’t feel bad about it. In fact, I feel downright relaxed.
I get to be lazy. I’m not a fan of cooking, so most nights my laziness kicks in and I “make” (read: scrounge up) something easy like peanut butter and crackers, or, yes, chocolate (you know you want to do it too). I can do this because I only have to worry about feeding myself. This goes beyond the kitchen. If I want to have an afternoon nap or shake my Fitbit instead of taking the steps, I can do that too—all with zero judgments.
I don’t have to deal with another person’s drama. I’m not saying I have a ton of problems, but I have enough things in my personal and professional life to focus on without taking on another person’s crap. I don’t want to spend my time dealing with it and I don’t have to. Ah, the beauty of the single life.
I get to date myself. Think about it: you get to take yourself out to dinner and go to a restaurant you actually want to eat at. You get to see the movie you’ve been dying to go to instead of the latest shoot ’em up production. You get to spend Friday night pantless painting your nails and eating ice cream from the tub. You can literally do whatever you want, whenever you want. Table for one, please.
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