Is Being Single the New Midlife Crisis?

Recently, I ran into an old college friend. Back then, we shared bad decisions, tequila, and existential dread.

We hadn’t seen each other in over a decade, so I braced for the small talk. Instead, she hit me with:

“Are you finally married?”

I laughed because what else was I supposed to do? Should I tell her I go to bed praying some man will come along and choose me before I expire?

Or do I tell her the truth?

That I sleep just fine at night. That I love my life. And I didn’t forget to get married — I never treated it like a finish line.

She stared at me, waiting for an explanation as if my single status needed a tragic backstory. Because if you’re still single past a certain age, something must have happened to you like an epic heartbreak that left you cynical and incapable of love. Because surely, no sane person would be single on purpose.

It’s strange because I don’t feel like I’m in crisis. I feel comfortable. Yet, that awkward exchange planted a tiny, nagging question in my brain:

Am I happy, or have I got used to being alone?

Even if we enjoy our lives, the guilt creeps in. Shouldn’t I be trying harder? So we cave.

We sign up for dating apps, even though they creep us out. We go on dates with men who talk too much about crypto. We agree to second dates because what if we’re being too picky?

And it hit me: being single has become the new midlife crisis.

…

We all know the cliché of the midlife crisis: a man in his 40s buys a sports car and cheats on his wife with his yoga instructor. A woman in her 50s burns her life to the ground, gets Botox, and moves to Italy.

Those crises are fuelled by regret. People realize they played by the rules, checked all the right boxes, and still feel empty.

Now? The crisis isn’t about having the wrong life. It’s about not having the life people think you should.

Marriage. Kids. A predictable existence.

And if you don’t have those things? Brace yourself. Because people will look at you the way they’d look at a person who just set their own house on fire.

“But… why?”

I get it. We’ve been fed the same script since birth: Love is the grand prize. The moment. The thing that gives life meaning. Which is weird because I know plenty of married people who don’t seem like they’re winning anything.

They’re exhausted, drowning in bills, childcare, and obligations they signed up for before they even knew who they were.

The people who got married in their 20s are now getting divorced in their 30s. The ones who once had the perfect Instagram love stories are now navigating custody battles and starting over.

And yet, they still look at me like I’m the one who should be worried.

No one considers you single because — wait for it — you’d rather be single than force something that isn’t right.

Do men get this? Of course not. A single man in his 40s is independent. A single woman in her 40s is a cautionary tale.

…

But I don’t consider being single as a tragic accident.

I actually like it.

I like waking up whenever I want, travelling on a whim, and making big life decisions without checking in with another person. I feel good in my space.

I like that my weekends aren’t spent compromising on brunch spots with someone who doesn’t know the difference between fluffy pancakes and mediocre pancakes. I like that no one is around to see how often I rewatch the same three comfort shows.

I’d rather be alone than in the wrong company, in a relationship that drains me.

My life feels whole without a plus-one.

…

Do you know what’s worse than being single at 40?

Being 40 and stuck in a marriage you don’t even like.

Being 45 and realizing you spent years chasing a life you never wanted because it was expected.

Settling into a marriage out of fear of being alone. Sticking with a career that looked good on paper but hollowed you out. Living a life that feels more like a performance than a choice.

So why is singleness the crisis?

Why do we pity the woman eating dinner alone but not the one sitting across from a husband she secretly resents?

That’s the crisis.

Not a single person living life on their terms.

…

Listen, I’m not against love. I adore it.

But love isn’t the only breathtaking experience in life. And the idea that being single past a certain age is some existential failure? That’s just bad storytelling.

I refuse to treat love like a clearance sale — grabbing whatever’s left because someone told me it’s time to “settle down.”

If the right person comes along, I’ll welcome it. But if it doesn’t? I refuse to believe my life will be less than because of it.

I am not waiting to be chosen.

I already chose me.

And I wouldn’t call it a crisis. But freedom.

Let’s keep in touch!

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This post was previously published on medium.com.

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