Being single in your twenties

Valentine is coming, where is your boyfriend?

Sato Suzuko from One Million Yen Girl

It’s February, and being a marketer means working on campaigns geared towards Valentine’s Day. A few days ago, I joined some of my colleagues to film an ad. Due to budgetary constraints, I had to model for the shoot, and part of the script involved answering the door to a bouquet of flowers, before falling into the arms of a lover.

It was fun; I enjoyed engaging in the theatrics of being a girlfriend on Valentine’s day, but a part of me felt at odds with that vision—a reality far removed from mine. My last relationship didn’t survive COVID, and I don’t think I saw my ex six times in person before we broke up. I have been single for so long—I fear I may have forgotten what it feels like to be in a relationship.

There’s a conversation to be had about our generation’s perception of singlehood. For one, it’s very common to not be in a relationship while figuring out life. Between getting an education and building a career, there might not be enough time or effort to spend on the logistics of falling in love. Despite this being the case, how we speak about the lack of a partner is fairly reminiscent of how we talked about getting our periods in high school—in hushed tones, with a measure of shame.

Where this shame comes from is an easy question to answer. We spend all our years ingesting romance films, novels, and ideas that prioritize coupled engagements as superior and ideal, then carry these notions into our lives. In movies, single characters are works-in-progress, living less-than-fulfilling lives until they bump into the man at the coffee shop or meet the girl in the elevator. Penelope (Bridgerton) miserably pines after a love interest who doesn’t see her for years until season 3 when she gets a makeover. Suddenly, he realises she’s been there all along. If you really think about it, characters who stay single in romcoms exist for either comic relief or moral support.

To avoid being relegated to this fate, romantic love becomes the altar we subconsciously pray to—the waterfall to which all our actions are led. We get into book clubs, run clubs, laser hair treatments, therapy sessions, and hot yoga classes, trying to optimize our lives in ways we think would make us more desirable to others. Even when the messaging appears relatively anti-romance, the undertones of longing remain. “Leave women for now and focus on getting money,” fathers and record label executives tell their boys, setting romance as a goal to be achieved after the “groundwork” of being successful has been done. Capitalism becomes a vehicle for love, and while the lanes may differ, the destination remains the same.

So what do you do as a single person navigating a world where a premium is placed on being boo-ed up? If you’re like me, then your first instinct might be to try to fix it.

After my last relationship, I spiralled, entering less than ideal situationships that left me feeling drained. I knew I wasn’t ready for a committed relationship, but I also didn’t want to be alone. Beyond desiring to have my emotional and sexual needs met, I felt—in a way—that being single was quite uninteresting. This is as someone who does a million and one things, by the way. There was just a way a conspiratorial “I’m seeing someone” whispered to a group of women could provide excitement and glee that talking about my job could never. Eventually, I got exhausted, careening to the other extreme, where I swore off men and chose to focus on my career. (Which, in retrospect, is not very different from the record label execs messaging above).

Now it doesn’t matter if you decide not to fix it because everyone else will try to fix it for you, especially if they think you’re a catch and you’ve been single for far longer than they’re comfortable with. From attempts at setting you up with their friends to invites to activities you consider a little questionable. I mean—yes, you wouldn’t find the love of your life while watching a great documentary at home, but you also wouldn’t at a speed dating event that costs N60,000 to attend. You know the type of person you would like to date wouldn’t be at such an event, so why should you?

It’s even more harmful when people equate the length of time spent single to perceived character flaws. “You’ve been single for five years, so something must be wrong with you.” Or, “If you meet any man/woman that is thirty-six and single, RUN!” I see these ideas online from time to time, and the lack of thought is staggering. Wouldn’t I be more particular about my needs and wants if I know myself now better than I did in 2020? Wouldn’t I be careful to pick someone whose values and goals align with mine? Consequently, wouldn’t this mean that I will not be quick to jump into relationships but would take my time to find the right person?

I thought as much.

If anything, it’s more questionable (to me) when people move in and out of relationships without giving themselves some space and time. It makes me think they are not healed enough for the next person they meet, a disaster waiting to occur.

So here’s my framework for navigating life single: I allow myself to be.

You cannot come and kill yourself, to be honest. I pour energy into the relationships that give me joy, the ones I have with myself, my family, and my friends. Not as something to focus on in the meantime while I wait for the arrival of a lover, but as a way of life—an internal culture.

Romance is very important to me, so I am deeply intentional about cultivating it in my daily life. I will dance alone in my room and admire my body in front of the mirror. Drive all the way to Victoria Island because I crave a particular pizza from a specific restaurant. As a friend, I will finish you with compliments, stay on three-hour long calls, and buy you a particular book because you mentioned wanting one. I will spend hours chatting with my mother while we eat, pay her telephone bills, and kiss her face a million times. This is because I strongly believe that romance does not have to exist within the parametres of a coupled relationship before you can paint your life with it. The love you give and receive from the world (and yourself) will save you.

While doing this, I have also chosen to remain a student of love. Figured if I could learn content marketing from experts, then I could learn more about love—how to give and receive it properly, and stay in love all the days of my life. Natasha Lunn’s Conversations on Love, All About Love by Bell Hooks, and Alain de Botton’s talk on Romanticism are some examples of materials that have helped me learn to love better.

It’s not a painless framework to adopt, by the way. Deprioritizing romantic love does not mean there won’t be days where you don’t crave the arm of a lover, caressing your back while you share how your day went. A love as comfortable as breathing. It means, though, that you will allow yourself to be comfortable with the idea of being alone. To not see your singlehood as a situation that needs to be fixed ASAP, but rather as a thing that just is, like a navel, or a limb.

This conversation will not be complete without recognizing that some people struggle with the idea of craving love. They’ve been told that their desires for companionship are retrogressive and avian. That if they love themselves enough, they wouldn’t crave a partner. This is completely false. There’s nothing wrong with wanting romantic love or feeling uncomfortable with the idea of being alone. Being told to shut up and love yourself will only reinforce the idea that there’s something wrong with you.

So on the days where the desire for a partner wanes, allow yourself to enjoy life and pour into the relationships you have been blessed with. Remember that it is a gift to have and to hold—the hand of a friend, a mother, a brother. On the other days, where you crave a lover and the feeling threatens to pull you from under, know that it is completely okay to yearn for something that can’t be fixed with a trip to a restaurant in VI. You are allowed to desire a partner and bask in what having one would look like. Just don’t allow its presence or lack thereof to consume you.

A couple of my friends are also single, and speaking with them pushed me to write this piece. There’s a certain adorable form of melancholy that comes with these conversations. Sometimes, they remind me of old people in nursing homes, trading stories from their youth. I indulge in them dramatically.

At the end of the day, I like that I am comfortable being single, and I have created a life that I love, one that I don’t have to run away from. I like that I no longer need to be tied to someone to feel great about myself. I can contribute to table talk without referring to love interests of any kind, and have the best time. I still would like to meet the love of my life. Maybe in a bookstore post-work hours, searching for a Jane Austen classic, or on a table at a Nigerian wedding, amid mutual friends and shared laughter. He would look over and smile, and we would start a conversation that does not end until the day one of us has to say goodbye forever, speckled hands clasped together, wrinkled by the passage of a life well spent. Wouldn’t that be nice?

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Treasure’s Corner

I loved writing this piece. Shoutout to Toyosi for helping me review. Happy Valentine’s Day in advance, my lovelies. Remember that you are loved, by me, by God, by the universe. Tomorrow, I plan to visit a coworker to eat in her house. We will watch dramas, and scroll through social media, discussing what everyone else is doing on Valentine’s Day. It will be so fun.

On Media I have enjoyed lately:

1. How the Garcia Girls Lost Their Accents by Julia Alvarez. Currently reading this book (in Spanish), and beyond being relatable to my experience as a third culture kid, it’s hilarious. The author captures the eccentricities of multiple sibling households in a way that is both authentic and mystical.

2. Doechii and Radiohead. Choice songs in the 20 Something playlist.

3. Been very into Old School love songs lately. Flavour’s Oyi is such a banger.

4. Started reading The Book Thief by Markus Zusak after everyone on my Instagram comment section for this video told me they loved it. Hands down the most interesting writing style I’ve seen in a very long time.

Wishing you the loveliest, love-filled weekend!