Every single time I visited home after starting university, my overly-inquisitive elderly neighbour would pop her head over the fence and ask the same question.

 

“So, have you got a boyfriend yet?”

 

To which I would laugh, “Nah, Mary, I’ve got no time for one. Too busy with the studies!” I’d grimace a bit, shrug my shoulders, and scurry back inside to console myself with a family-sized bar of Fruit and Nut and a bottle of Rioja. Okay, the last bit was a lie - I wasn’t that gutted at my lack of a love life. But whenever she asked, I would almost feel like a bit of a social failure for having reached the grand old age of 20 and never having been in a relationship.

 

I was certain that I was resigned to a life of singledom and would ultimately become that woman with the twenty cats in her run-down one bedroomed flat (not that there is anything inherently wrong with this, I just think it would be a bit lonely). I never had the gift of the pull, could never find someone in a nightclub and snog their face off. Even speaking to the other sex was often a bit of an effort. I felt that I had “approach at your peril” emblazoned in indelible ink written across my forehead, which was readable only by males.  Over the years, I learned to embrace the single lifestyle.

 

Which, ironically, I didn’t appreciate until I was finally in a relationship. Of course, having a partner brings its own benefits and is lovely. But I’m fed up of living in a culture whereby the aim of the game is to be one half of a couple. Don’t have a boyf? You need to get one, my friend. Internet dating sites, nights on the pull, blind dates set up by mates… it is as if, in order to be complete as an individual, you need to have someone else. The singleton’s life, it seems, is not worth living.

 

People are forgetting that sailing the seas of life solo is actually not all that bad. Firstly, being single is liberating. You owe nothing to anyone except yourself. You are entitled to be selfish, determined, independent, and are unlimited with regards to your time. Your days are your own; you can take that promotion and go jet-setting round the world. You need not consider anyone else except your good self. I hadn’t realised this until I had to start half-planning my weeks around when I would get to see my boyfriend; not by any means a chore, rather an extra consideration which I wasn’t used to.

 

Secondly: personal maintenance. I used to wear the most scaffy pants, and didn’t give a second thought about it because at the end of the day, I was the only one seeing them. I would obviously make an effort to look presentable, but come winter I would embrace the rainforest on my legs and hide them assiduously under woolly tights for six months. Now I have to shave almost daily, taking away an extra 5 minutes of sleep time in the morning. Oh, the joys.

 

But on a less tedious note, I am very grateful that I spent those formative years being single. Being in a relationship would have required a level of maturity that I just didn’t have at that age. It gave me the opportunity to get to love myself before anyone else. Consequently, I’m more comfortable with my own company and am generally more self-confident. I know my own mind, know what I like, and what I don’t like. Ultimately, without these qualities, you’re going to end up in a spot of difficulty, whether you’re in a relationship or not.

 

So, grab your coat, love. You’ve got a world of singledom out there, and it’s actually good fun.