Single CAN feel this good.
I’m feeling like a star, you can’t stop my shine.
I’m loving cloud nine, my head’s in the sky.
I’m solo, I’m riding solo,
Now I’m feeling how I should,
never knew single could feel this good.
Being single; I’m loving it.
I recently re-connected with Thor, the man who I naively let break my heart a couple of months ago. He had to meet with me for a work thing. Needless to say, I was a little nervous. He seemed to be too. When he first texted me – I had deleted his number and asked who it was – he replied, “Someone who needs to clear the air.” Funny; I didn’t even recognize his voice when we talked on the phone.
We set up a time, and met to talk over a paper he needed reviewed. I reviewed it. We caught up on each other’s tumultuous summers. And then he left, his hand briefly squeezing my shoulder.
And I was ok. More than ok. I realized that, despite the rawness of what happened between him and I, I was over him. And I promptly accepted an invitation to visit a nightclub – alone.
And then it got me thinking. About my Month of No – a time when I said “no” to every date that was proffered me and all the happy singledom that has occurred as a result – and all I could think was: “You’ve come a long way, baby.”
At first, after my breakup with The Big Ex, I was more concerned with the thought, “Am I attractive? Do men want me?” I wasn’t sure I could connect with others like I had with my ex. Then I dated (and broke up with) others – Edgar, Ansel, Francois and even Jeremi – and I realized that:
- Yes, I AM attractive to men. Very much so. I can’t seem to get rid of them, actually. I know; this is a good problem, but it’s still a problem.
- Yes, I CAN connect with other men. Absolutely. We’re talking midnight talks that stretch into the morning light, the kind of talks that challenge your life views and push you forward.
So. It’s no longer a question of can I make a connection? I’m now asking myself the question who am I making this connection with? It’s about quality, not quantity.
And then I thought: What’s wrong with being single anyway? Until I meet that Man of Quality, why bother with flings and relationships that I know from the outset won’t fit anyway? No, it’s time to cut the strings loose. The last few weeks of singledom have made me happier than I could ever have imagined. I enjoy my own company. Thoroughly.
So, in honor of happy singledom, I present snapshots from former (and more recent) Dates with Myself, in which food, travel and art played a dominant role:
That’s an active and happy single life. Compiling that list only makes me appreciate my singledom all that more. I know I can attract many men. Last night’s double-header of parties confirmed this point, once again, as several guys approached me, danced with me and asked for my number. If I wanted, I could be a player, a.k.a. Samantha Jones (or a straight version of L Word’s Shane), but I want more than that. So I’m clearing my head and embracing being single. And there’s nothing wrong with that, contrary to what a life time of romantic comedies have told me:
Last night I was dancing with a guy who had MJ-like moves and a sharp-looking fedora that I borrowed for a couple of dances. And as he leaned in to yell into my ear, he asked, “Who did you come here with?”
“Myself,” I responded.
“No,” he replied, refuting me.
“Yes,” I said, “It’s just me.” And then I smiled widely at him. He looked my way, then thanked me for the dance and left. And that was fine with me.
So when Jason Derulo’s song “Riding Solo” came out, I knew I had discovered my new anthem. Single can and does feel this good, despite how others perceive it: