Single, Single and Sick of it!

There’s single… and then there’s single single.

The kind of single where even your bank account looks lonely. The kind of single where you RSVP to weddings as “+0” so many times the caterers stop asking. The kind of single where you’ve memorized the sound of your roommates having sex in the room next door, because what else is there to do at midnight when you can’t afford noise-cancelling headphones?

That was me. Not just “single.” Single squared. Single single.

Chapter 1: The Timeline I Couldn’t Keep Up With

By 22, my friends were basically auditioning for Better Homes and Gardens: The Family Edition.

• Engaged.

• Married.

• Babies before 25.

• Posting “our forever home” pictures on Facebook.

By 27, some were already pregnant with their second.

And me? I was still figuring out which instant noodles gave the best flavor-to-salt ratio. My “forever home” was a rental where the bathroom ceiling leaked.

Chapter 2: My Job Wasn’t a Career, It Was Community Service

I had a job. It paid me just enough to keep me broke in style. It was the kind of job where your boss says “there’s no room for growth” but still expects you to smile while covering someone else’s shift.

Career ladder? I wasn’t even on the ground floor. I was in the car park outside, wondering how to get in.

My paycheck covered rent, groceries, and the occasional cheap flight — but God forbid I got a parking fine. That was the financial equivalent of being drop-kicked.

Chapter 3: Premature Menopause & Silent Grief

Underneath all the jokes was the grief I didn’t say out loud.

I’d been diagnosed with premature menopause. While my friends were falling pregnant, I was falling apart inside, wondering if I’d ever get the chance to be a mother.

That’s why I skipped baby showers.It wasn’t shade — it was self-preservation. Because sitting in a circle, guessing the baby food flavor, while silently mourning my own future? That’s not something Prosecco can fix.

Chapter 4: Dating Before Dating Apps

Let me tell you about dating before swiping.

If Tinder had existed in my twenties, my matches would’ve looked something like this:

• Dave, 29: “Lives with mum. Passionate about protein shakes. Looking for someone to admire my biceps while I explain crypto.”

• Steve, 31: “Financially irresponsible but has a great beard. Forgets wallet on every first date.”

• Mark, 27: “Not ready for anything serious. (Also not ready to cut his hair, move out, or grow up.)”

  
  

But instead of swiping left, I had to meet these men in person. At bars. At parties. Sometimes at work. Which meant I couldn’t ghost them with the tap of a finger — I had to awkwardly dodge eye contact in real life.

My flirting technique? Making intense eye contact with my vodka soda and praying someone noticed me. Spoiler: they didn’t.

Chapter 5: Roommate Roulette

Oh, the roommates.

I went from one disaster to another.

• The woman who set the room on fire from a candle.

• The couple who fought so loudly I could’ve charged them couples’ therapy rent.

• The girl that moved out while I was on holiday and out of contact.

• And of course, the classic: the ones who “forgot” their rent altogether, leaving me chasing them like a part-time debt collector.

And when they weren’t dodging bills, they were loudly expressing their love lives in the bedroom next to mine. Nothing like the squeak of a bedframe while you scroll Facebook, watching yet another engagement announcement.

Meanwhile, my friends were debating pram colors and buying matching salt-and-pepper grinders.

Chapter 6: The Baby Showers I Couldn’t Face

Every invite in pastel pink or blue felt like a dagger.

“Come celebrate the miracle of life!” Meanwhile, I was sitting at home wondering if my body would ever let me have one.

So I skipped them. I sent gifts, sure. Wrote sweet cards. But I stayed home. Not because I didn’t love my friends, but because I loved myself too much to sit in a room full of belly rubs and “just wait until it’s your turn” comments.

My turn? I wasn’t sure I’d ever get one.

Chapter 7: The Emotional Cocktail

If my twenties were a cocktail, it would’ve been:

• One shot of loneliness.

• A double pour of grief.

• A splash of jealousy.

• Garnished with resentment over unpaid roommate bills.

Shaken, not stirred. Served warm in a chipped wine glass.

Chapter 8: Comedy in the Chaos

Of course, the chaos was hilarious — later.

There was the time I spent my last $40 on a budget flight, only to realize I couldn’t afford both nights at the hotel (Spoiler: I slept in the hotel lobby.)

There was the roommate whose who we liked the same guy at the same time needless to say that didn’t work out long before we went our separate ways.

And the dates. Oh, the dates.

• One man spent 90 minutes explaining about how he is a wine connoisseur (aka snob) and a loved owing luxury cars (he owned a Volkswagen Golf) no joke!

• Another bragged about his “six-figure salary” but ordered tap water and made me split the bill. I sucked it up went out one other time with this one just for coffee. Second date we walked up to order bought his coffee turned around to me after he paid and asked if I was going to get one.

• And my personal favorite: the guy who said he “wasn’t looking for anything serious”… then got engaged three months later.

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Chapter 9: Lessons From Being Single Single

Here’s what I learned:

• Resilience. Cheering for friends while breaking inside builds strength no one sees.

• Independence. Being your own plus-one teaches you to buy yourself flowers and mean it.

• Clarity. Bad dates and worse roommates make it crystal clear what you don’t want.

And most importantly: you can be happy for your friends and sad for yourself at the same time. That doesn’t make you bitter. It makes you human.

Chapter 10: To the Ones Still There

If you’re still in it — single single, broke, dodging baby showers, listening to squeaky bedframes next door — I see you.

You’re not broken. You’re not behind. You’re not “less than.”

You’re just living a different story. And maybe, one day, you’ll laugh at the chaos too.

Epilogue: Single Single, But Strong

Yes, I was single single and sick of it.Sick of my low paying job and wanting to be promoted. Sick of rent chases. Sick of bad dates and skipped showers (the baby kind, not the hygiene kind).

But those years shaped me. They gave me grit, perspective, and a library of hilarious stories.

So here’s to the single singles — the ones making it work, making mistakes, and making memories.

One day, you’ll look back and realize: the chaos was your training ground.

And honestly? It makes one hell of a blog post.