Single and the City

As I sat in the theater, watching one of my favorite television shows wrap up its story on the big screen, I found myself feeling a little less than fabulous.

“Sex and the City,” the movie, was good, and the fashionistas with attitudes all walked down the right runway in their lives. But one thing became apparent to me as I sat there slouching in my seat. Single is not sexy.

Yes, I’m sure I have now contradicted all the being-single testimonies I’ve delivered in the past. But I’m human, I’m 28, and I reserve the right to change my mind.

For years “SATC” convinced women that single is to die for. But it isn’t and even they know it.

All of the characters wanted relationships. Samantha denies it, but I’m almost certain that sex is her boyfriend.

When I was 21, I thought single meant power. I could do whatever I wanted. I did not have to think about anybody else’s feelings first. At 21, you go where you want, buy what you want and do what you want. Being single is all about you. And that’s fun for a while. At 21, being self-involved was probably part of the package. But that wasn’t sexy, it was selfish.

So I’m older now.

Am I single? Yes.

Do I feel fabulous? Yes.

Is it because I’m single? Hell, no.

I feel fab because I’m happy with the woman I continue to become. I’m happy with the friends I have and with the life I live.

Would my happiness be heightened if I had someone to share it with? For sure.

Now I know that, after 21, being single becomes a lot of things. Single means when all your friends are out on date night, you’re hanging out with that one last single friend. When you’re going to weddings and banquets, there is no plus one — as Carrie would say.

Worse: Your mother starts to worry about you. While everyone else is moving into the next phase of their life, you’re getting used to the idea of a family of one.

Believe me, few people actually want to be single. Many single people say it’s a choice, and for a little while it might be.

You need to be able to stand alone and figure things out for yourself. You have to get to know yourself and love who you are as an individual. But it’s only human to want to be with someone else.

Some of my married readers often remind me of the freedom and excitement that comes with living single. Other people try to hook me up with the single guys in their lives. But I don’t need that. My time will come when it is supposed to.

Call me an idealist (or Charlotte) if you want. I would just like for it to be all right to admit that you want to be in a relationship. It doesn’t make me any less strong, independent or fabulous.

Don’t get me wrong. Single is fun. But to be with someone, that is love.

And love trumps fabulous in the city each and every day.