I’ve been thinking: In a world that seems to favor pairs – a double shot of espresso, a pair of strappy sandals, peanut butter and jelly, eggs and bacon – where do the singles fit in?
Around me, there’s this buzz of people yearning, scanning every bar and crowded hallway for that mythical prince charming to magically appear. It’s as if every night out at Cantina or Rowdy’s comes with the hope that “he” might be waiting there, beer in hand, to whisk them into coupledom. Aren’t college years supposed to be about freedom? About finding ourselves? Maybe I’m just too comfortable being single.
After years of observation (and countless nights sipping cocktails at overcrowded bars), I came to a simple but startling realization: women seem to fall into one of two categories — the “Coupled-Ups” and the “Constant Singles.” The coupled ups have no problem jumping into relationships like it’s second nature. If they break up on Monday, they’ve DIYed a new boyfriend by Friday, plucking someone new out of obscurity with ease and effortlessness. Then, there’s the Constant Singles. No high school sweetheart, no “young love.” Not because we’re picky; it just… never happened.
Now, if you think this is just a covert “some girls are just better” theory, you’d be wrong. The Constant Singles I know? They’re charming, enchanting and some of the most objectively beautiful people I’ve ever met. So, why are some women constantly coupled up, while others are perpetually uncoupled? Are some of us just subconsciously choosing the single life, happy in our own company?
My roommate and first friend in Gainesville, Miranda, was a Constant Single (and constant complainer about it). She doesn’t necessarily want a boyfriend per se, she just finds it frustrating that all her friends either have one or want one. And I get it. A week before, it was all “girls night out” and now “me” has all of a sudden become “we.” “We’re going to study at the library.” “We’re going to the gym.” “We’re staying in to hang out at his frat house.” I understood where she was coming from.
But for Miranda, it’s more than just being left out of girl time. Growing up, she never felt “pretty,” and it’s stuck with her all these years. So, she drinks, she parties, she plays the sidekick at bars, setting her friends up with strangers, adequately masquerading her resentment and desire for a connection. But by the end of the night, when the mask slips, it becomes clear to me that Miranda despises being a constant single.
Meanwhile, I’ve come to relish my single status. Sure, sometimes a beautiful moment catches me off guard, and I think, “Wouldn’t it be lovely to share this with someone?” But then I think about my little routines, my “secret single behavior,” and the thought of giving that up makes me clutch my freedom a little tighter. I cook when I want, walk around campus with just my thoughts and my playlist, write in my journal, and watch my favorite shows. The idea of someone disrupting that? Terrifying.
I’ve tried to push myself out of my cushiony shell. I’ve spent months speaking to guys, testing the waters with no wild expectations. But in the end, no matter how perfect a guy seems to come across, I push them away. I become the ghoster, the one who can’t commit or properly communicate. It’s made me wonder if I was on the opposite side of the problematic spectrum. Am I, too, comfortable alone?
Then, there’s Angelina—a fellow Constant Single and New Yorker. She, too, can’t be bothered to text a guy back, and she’s bewildered that guys in Gainesville don’t seem to possess the chivalry needed to simply buy a woman a drink. Like me, she has never experienced a stable relationship. We both shared the common trait of being too at peace with our own company… until a couple weeks ago. She met a man who, although not her type on paper, matched her energy, and suddenly, all her convictions vanished like smoke.
So now I’m left wondering: Am I truly not looking for love? Or have I just not met my energy equivalent? Whether you’re a Coupled-Up or a Constant Single, it seems that at the end of the day, we’re all chasing what we don’t have. The Coupled-Ups sometimes fantasize about the quiet peace of solitude, while the Constant Singles dream of that missing half, that elusive happiness wrapped up in “someone else.” The truth is, it’s not wrong to want either — or both. In the meantime, maybe the best we can do is water the grass right where we’re standing.