As much as I love having the opportunity to do some things all alone, and often enjoy the peace and quiet available to me as a single person, there are a few things for which I wish I had a permanent date. I realize that being married doesn’t necessarily guarantee a partner for all of the following things, as some spouses are out of town, hate to go to these functions, or are otherwise unable to do so. Still, having a husband or a wife seems to increase the likelihood of not having to go to at least some or most of the following alone.
Eating Dinner Out
For some reason, dining out alone at lunchtime is fine for me. I can bring a book along and have a perfectly enjoyable lunch-for-one at a restaurant or cafe any time without feeling too awkward. Perhaps that’s because there seem to be other people who are ducking out on their lunch breaks at work to catch a moment alone, so I don’t stick out quite so much.
But the minute that menu switches from lunch to dinner, all sorts of embarrassment washes over me if I set foot in an eating establishment all on my own. Though I don’t look at other single diners with judgement, and honestly rarely even notice other diners, I feel rather pathetic sitting there taking up a table for 2 or more while others wait to be seated.
There are times in my life when it’s worth it to suck it up and get over my own feelings of discomfort by just getting comfy at that table and enjoy an isolated dinner, like when I travel alone, or really crave sushi. For the most part, however, I just avoid the dinner rush altogether unless I can find friend or family to drag along with me.
In Los Angeles, this was easier to deal with as I was a GrubHub addict and, at the press of a button on my phone app, whatever food I wanted would appear at my door. If I had a craving for tacos, chicken wings, pie, or even Himalayan food, I could have it delivered right to my doorstep where only the one delivery person could judge me for dining solo. Heck, I embraced this so much that I was totally that woman who’d open the door in my plaid pajamas, Netflix or Hulu on pause, and unabashedly accept a food delivery that could feed an entire family when obviously it was just for me. Now I live in a city where the only delivery available is pizza. Sigh. It’s just not the same. But set foot in a crowded restaurant at 6:30 pm on a Friday all on my lonesome? Never!
When I was younger, the ratio of single to married friends was very much in my favor. Yet, even then, that moment I walked through the door of the host’s house or entered a venue filled me with a small amount of dread. I’d stand there, looking around to find the face of someone I knew. As an introverted extrovert, parties are complicated for me. I both love and hate them. But as one single among many, I felt less of the odd one out.
Now that most of my friends and family are married, I’m no longer the 10th person to walk through that door alone, but am instead one of a dwindling number. All eyes swing to me, and I don’t have that partner standing next to me to hold my hand or bump my elbow to reassure me that they’re not staring at me like I’m a freak, but just in curiosity.
The other weird thing about parties at this point in my life is that most of them are for, or at least include, children. So not only am I often one of the few who arrive spouse-less, but I’m childless as well. This leaves me out of the vast majority of party small talk among women my age. Honestly, I sometimes feel more comfortable surrounded by the husbands because they are more likely talking about work or politics than kids. Sadly, this isn’t always looked upon favorably. Calm down, ladies, I’m not interested in your husbands and they’re not interested in me, I just want to talk about Star Wars instead of potty training. I wish this gender stereotype didn’t play out so often in real life, but I’ve been stuck in this situation more times than I can count and it never gets any less horrible.
There is also something a bit lonely about leaving a party all on my own. Once I get past my social awkwardness and selfishness, and start to try to find ways to talk to others on the fringes and include them in the larger conversation, parties can be quite fun. Then comes time to leave. These days I’ll often track down the host, give them a hug, and then ghost out of there. Then I get in my car and have to shake off the feeling of being alone again.
Let me be honest here – I’ve never really been a huge fan of weddings. I’m a huge fan of love, commitment, marriage, and families, but the long, drawn-out, formal ceremony followed by an even longer reception brings out the worst of my attitude and my insecurities. Because I feel the awkwardness of others so acutely, and wish I could make everyone okay, weddings are particularly difficult.
Once again, they were easier to attend when I was younger and went with a bunch of single girl and guy friends. But now, once again, I’m one of the few attendees sans date. I often attach myself to my married friends as soon as I walk in the door, and try not to let them out of my site for fear I’ll be stuck alone in a corner, nursing my champagne, looking pathetic.
Dancing is interesting as well because I actually like to dance at weddings. Just put some Spice Girls on, and there I’ll be in the middle of the dance floor with the bride and all her bridesmaids, grinning like crazy. But then the slow songs come on, and I’m always one of those who has to clear the floor as the DJ makes a big deal about how many decades each couple has been married. In high school and college, I used to swing dance. I took a few ballroom classes, and truly enjoyed them. My brother was my partner much of the time, and we had such a blast together. But again, the older I got, the fewer opportunities were left for a single woman who is socially awkward to swing dance. Classes have a skewed ratio, as do clubs, so there are never enough male partners to go around. And to be honest, the romantic in me always dreamt of having a boyfriend or husband who would dance with me, so now I just don’t do it at all, making that part of the wedding conflicted.
Weddings blend all my insecurities from parties with a culture that celebrates couples to the extent it can sometimes insult singles. Sadly, I’ve heard too many speeches from parents, siblings, or friends that mock the bride or groom for having been single for so long. One too many bad jokes including “we never thought they’d find someone!” or “it’s about time!” has created a PTSD-like reaction in me, including flinching, blushing, and feeling like vomiting as I am often the same age or even older than the bride or groom being so berated. No matter how many times this happens, I am always horrified on behalf of the bride or groom and all singles.
I’m not saying a spouse would make me suddenly love and embrace all the traditions that go along with weddings (don’t get me started on the misogyny of garter throw, or degrading connotations of the bouquet toss) but I do think they’d be at least slightly less difficult for me to attend if I had someone in my corner with me.
Extracurricular functions for one’s work are inevitably uncomfortable for most of us, but being one of the few singletons makes it even worse. Fundraisers, dinners, parties, galas, and other non-work work activities are usually built for couples. “Bring your spouse!” is highlighted on invitations, encouraged, and expected. And then there’s me. I don’t even bother to try to scrounge up a date – I just go stag. Every time.
Just like the awkwardness bred by parties and weddings, going to work functions alone brings out all my jitters. I feel young, immature, and very alone; it’s as if I’m missing some key ingredient to being an adult. Part of this is because I’m often treated a bit younger by bosses or coworkers in these instances because I’m there sans partner. I’ve even been hit on by someone else’s husband when he found out I was single because somehow he thought me saying “hi, how are you doing?” was flirting. Grrrr Argh.
Formal functions are the worst because even the tables are set up for couples. As a single person, I get squished in wherever they have room, often next to some other single person I may not even know. There is often dancing or some other couple-favoring activity. And honestly, these events can be grueling without a partner in crime to chat to all night.
It is here that I feel the most pity from those around me, as year after year, time after time, I still arrive alone. Most of my fellow single coworkers bring dates and eventually end up bringing their new spouse – but there’s Fawn, still alone. Always alone. And everyone knows it. Even if I’m at a point in my life where I actually prefer being single and am perfectly content in it, they can’t help but look at me like I’m just a bit sad somehow. I’ve learned that, since most people can’t imagine being single for their whole lives, they just can’t handle thinking that someone else might be happy this way.
This one hurts the most. Being a single woman at 39 in the modern American church is hard for most of the reasons above plus a zillion more. Just this morning, I went to second service alone because my sister and her husband, with whom I often sit, had to teach a kids’ Sunday School class instead. So, in I walk, getting there just as the music starts and most people are already seated. And I have to go through the same anxiety-inducing decision of where to sit, yet again. Some Sundays I just look for the first person or couple I know and go insinuate myself next to them, whether they like it or not. Other days, like today, I just try to find a seat on the end of a row where I can sit alone. This is never not awkward. Never.
Then you have the thing where you meet a new person and they ask if you’re married and/or have kids and when you say no, they often have no idea what to say after that. The pity I get from some at work multiplies when at church, where many think it’s a theological truth that marriage is better than singleness, even though this is not true. The amount of little old ladies who want to know WHY I’m single is astounding. And then I have to come up with reasons, over and over and over again. Like, well . . . I just haven’t met the right person, or I guess God doesn’t want me to be married, or God’s had a lot for me to do as a single woman, or I have no bloody idea, actually.
All of this discomfort is magnified when trying out a new small group or Bible study. It’s like walking into most of the mortification found at parties, weddings, work functions, and church all together. It would be nice to have a partner by my side who knew how uncomfortable these situations make me feel and could help run interference.
Sometimes, I throw people off at church because I am a single woman who is educated in theology and speaks up. I don’t have a husband to temper my thoughts and for some Christians this is a bit disconcerting. I’ve had men gape at me for daring to speak to them or ask them a question about what they’ve claimed. I’ve had women glare at me for not staying quiet, or for speaking to not just them, but their husbands as well. Again, I am about the least threatening woman when it comes to stealing a wife’s husband! I’m an awkward, overweight geek who has zero interest in married men. Still, in the church being a single woman can limit my ability to have a voice or ministry. Heartbreaking, yes, but that’s how it is.
So, there’s my list of the top 5 things I currently hate to do alone. The church, in particular, needs to work on incorporating singles into its daily life in a way that is less alienating. And we singles need to develop friendships that can get past our single/married status.
What do you hate to do alone?