I’m not dating anyone. It’s been a decade since my divorce, and I’m happily single. While I’ve had a few boyfriends over the years—some more serious than others—right now, and for the last several years, I have been entirely, completely, 100% unattached. And you know what? I’m absolutely content with this. So why does it seem to bother some people?
The prevailing narrative around divorce often suggests that if you’re divorced, you should jump back into the dating scene immediately. Newly single individuals often feel pressured, as if there’s a ticking clock urging them to find new love. Many believe that their lives won’t feel complete until they have someone to share their bed every night. Even now, people frequently ask me, “Why aren’t you dating?” or “You should really find someone!” or my personal favorite, “You and the kids need a man around.”
While there are many things I need—like work, parenting, laundry, groceries, and walking my dog—being in a relationship is not one of them.
There’s a sense of liberation that comes from being single. I’ve mastered the skill of enjoying my own company without feeling lonely. This newfound independence is one of the unexpected gifts of divorce, and it took me quite a while to fully appreciate it.
Don’t get me wrong; I’m not isolated. I have four kids, a dog that requires attention, and an amazing group of friends. I could easily fill my calendar every night if I wanted to. But occasionally, I find myself with just my own thoughts, and I actually enjoy that time.
Before my divorce, I had never lived alone. I moved from my parents’ home to sharing space with roommates and then transitioned to living with my husband. Technically, I’m not alone now, as there are always kids around, but for the first time as an adult, I’m single and not searching for a partner.
Part of my decision to remain unattached could be a protective measure for my heart. My ex-husband’s departure left a mark on me. I realize there was damage, but it wasn’t permanent. My current choice to avoid dating isn’t about fearing vulnerability or lacking trust in men. Sure, a hint of insecurity lingers—going through one failed marriage makes the thought of trying again daunting. Who’s to say I wouldn’t again invest years of my life in someone only to end up hurt?
Yet, I prefer to view my single status as a form of education. I’m learning to appreciate solitude, which lays a solid foundation for any future relationships. Embracing life on my own takes courage, and some days, I feel truly brave. I’m mastering how to navigate life’s challenges solo, a skill I believe every woman should possess.
Let me clarify: I have immense respect for those who have swiftly re-entered the dating world. I know friends who found new love almost immediately after their divorces, and that’s fantastic. Everyone has their unique approach to healing and moving forward. I can’t help but feel a twinge of envy at times when I see them enjoying the perks of being in a couple—companionship, support, and the comforting presence of someone special during life’s ups and downs.
However, I also watch friends who seem to constantly cycle through relationships, introducing their kids to various partners only to end up back at square one. I’ve been there to console them when things go awry, offering support when they realize it was just a temporary connection. Their determination to find love is commendable, but I often wonder if they’re pursuing it because they genuinely want to or because they feel societal pressure to do so.
Recently, I spoke with another single friend who became widowed. She shared that people asked her about dating just a week after her husband’s death. “Look at this,” she said, showing me her wedding band. “I took it off for a bit, and suddenly I was met with raised eyebrows.” She pointed to her kids laughing in the other room. “They’re my priority right now. I’ll think about dating later.”
Although my journey to this point and hers are quite different, we’ve both arrived at a similar realization: while love is something we desire, our primary focus is on our responsibilities—being mothers, managing our homes, nurturing friendships, and caring for ourselves. It’s about finding stability and strength to navigate this unpredictable life.
As a single parent, it’s common for others to insist that I owe it to myself—and my children—to be in a romantic relationship, or that being single isn’t natural. Here’s the truth: the only obligation I have is to be the best version of myself. Sometimes that means dating; sometimes it doesn’t. It’s about what works for me. And by the way, there’s no rule that states a person must be in a relationship to have a fulfilling life or a healthy sex life. We moms are resourceful and know how to get things done for ourselves.
Who knows? They say love finds you when you’re not looking. If it happens, great! But for now, I’m content to prioritize my own journey. Whether I meet someone special while grocery shopping or out on a walk with my dog, or even if I decide to try some dating apps, I’m okay with whatever comes my way. And frankly, that should be perfectly acceptable to everyone else too.
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In summary, I’m happily embracing my single life, focusing on my role as a mother and the things that bring me joy. Love may come when I least expect it, but for now, I’m content with my choices and the life I’m building.