Being Single Is Not a Disease

Earlier this week, my best friend called me in a panic because an ice storm was coming. She and her husband wanted me to drive to their house so I “wouldn’t be alone.” A few hours later, my sister called with the same energy: “If it gets bad, I’m coming to get you.”

Both moments were incredibly sweet. I felt loved, cared for, held in their concern.

But I also had this quiet thought I didn’t say out loud: “Do they think that because I’m single, I’m incompetent or weak?”

And honestly, I can’t count the number of times someone has asked me, “Why aren’t you looking?” “Have you just given up?”

No. I haven’t given up. I’m simply not searching from a place of fear, scarcity, or self-blame. I’m not dating because I think something is wrong with me. I’m open — genuinely open — but I want my choices to come from an emotionally intelligent, grounded place. Not perfect. Just honest. Just aligned.

And that’s the part people struggle to understand.

It’s not that I’m avoiding love. It’s that I’m not willing to chase it from a place of panic or pressure.

I See It in My Clinical Work Every Week

This isn’t just something I experience personally — I see it professionally, too. In my clinical work, I meet incredible, emotionally intelligent people who feel defective simply because they’re single. Not because they’re unhappy, but because the world keeps telling them they should be.

I’ve had clients juggling four or five dating apps at once, swiping like it’s a part-time job. One man told me he had been on sixty first dates in a year. Sixty. He said it casually, like it was normal, but the exhaustion in his voice told the truth.

As we explored it together, he admitted something that broke my heart a little: He thought he was a failure because he was still single.

Not because he lacked joy or purpose. Not because he didn’t have meaningful relationships. But because he had absorbed the message that singleness equals inadequacy.

And single people hear that message everywhere:

• “You’re too picky.”

• “You just need to put yourself out there more.”

• “Don’t worry, you’ll find someone.”

• “You’re too amazing to be alone.”

Even the well‑meaning comments carry the same subtext: You’re not complete yet.

But what if the problem isn’t the person — it’s the pressure? What if the exhaustion isn’t from dating — it’s from the belief that you must be partnered to be okay?

Why My Story Doesn’t Disqualify Me — It’s What Makes Me Qualified

And this brings me to something I get asked often because I work with couples: “How are you qualified to help relationships when you’ve had relationships end — and you’re single?”

It’s a fair question. And my answer is simple: I didn’t grow up seeing healthy love. I had to learn it.

I was unlearned. I was under‑modeled. I was doing the best I could with the tools I inherited.

But pain and betrayal have a way of waking you up. Relationships — especially the ones that break — are mirrors. They show you the unhealed places you’ve been avoiding. They reveal the patterns you didn’t know you were repeating. They teach you what actually supports your growth.

This is where I learned healthy partnership. Not perfect partnership. Not partnership without conflict or flaws. But partnership rooted in honesty, repair, accountability, and evolution.

And that has become my entire purpose.

I don’t teach fairy‑tale love. I teach messy, imperfect intimacy — the kind that supports growth, communication, and courage. I teach the kind of partnership that two whole people build, not two wounded people trying to fill each other’s emptiness.

Honestly, the cultural script we’re handed about love is damaging. We’re told to “just know,” to “follow our heart,” to “find the one,” and then we’re left to figure out the actual skills of partnership on our own. No wonder so many people feel lost.

My work is about helping people unlock that code — and I’ve watched it transform relationships over and over again.

And here’s the truth I stand on: Being single isn’t a bad thing. But neither is being in a partnership that helps you grow and evolve.

My singleness is not a failure. My past relationships are not failures. They have shaped me into a more mature, grounded, courageous version of myself.

So why would I call that failure?

If anything, it was the launching pad I needed to heal — and I encourage others to consider the same. Maybe what you’re calling “failure” is actually the moment your life began to shift. Maybe it’s the doorway to the love you’re finally ready for — whether that love comes from another person or from yourself.

The Real Sickness Is the Narrative, Not the Status

Somewhere along the way, we started treating singleness like a temporary condition — something you’re supposed to “fix” or “get over” as quickly as possible. People ask, “Are you seeing anyone yet?” the way they ask, “Are you feeling better?”

But singleness is not a diagnosis. It’s not a symptom. It’s not a problem to solve.

What’s actually harmful is the shame we attach to it.

We’ve been conditioned to believe that being chosen by someone else is the ultimate validation. That partnership equals worthiness. That marriage is the finish line of adulthood. And that if you’re single, something must be wrong with you — you’re too picky, too broken, too intimidating, too much, or not enough.

None of that is truth. It’s conditioning. It’s generational messaging. It’s fear disguised as concern.

Singleness Can Be One of the Healthiest Seasons of Your Life

Being single gives you space to:

• Hear your own voice without interference

• Build a life rooted in your values

• Heal patterns you don’t want to repeat

• Strengthen your boundaries and standards

• Reconnect with your body, intuition, and pace

There is nothing “less than” about that. In fact, many people only discover their true selves in the quiet of their own company.

Partnership Is Not a Prize — Alignment Is

You don’t need a relationship to prove you’re lovable. You don’t need a partner to validate your adulthood. You don’t need a ring to justify your joy.

What you deserve is alignment — not attachment. Reciprocity — not rescue. A partner — not a project.

And alignment cannot be rushed. It cannot be forced. It cannot be manufactured out of loneliness or fear.

Stop Treating Singleness Like a Waiting Room

You are not “waiting” for your life to begin. You are living it. Fully. Right now.

Your friendships count. Your healing counts. Your joy counts. Your rest counts. Your growth counts. Your peace counts.

You are not in a holding pattern. You are in a season of becoming. 

If Anything, Singleness Is a Form of Clarity

It teaches you to choose yourself without apology. It teaches you that companionship is beautiful — but not at the cost of your peace.

Love is not waiting for you on the other side of a relationship status. Love is where you are right now. Partnership is beautiful. Singleness is beautiful. Both are worthy. Both are valuable. Both can grow you.