​It was Christmas time, and I was at a family gathering, sitting with my chin in my hand and a smile on my face, taking in the conversation and laughter around me.

That’s when they came up to me and made a show of looking at my ring-less left-hand. They theatrically made a face of exaggerated shock, said something about me not having a boyfriend, and then nudged my shoulder as they jokingly asked, “What’s wrong with you?”

As they turned away, my smile faded and I blinked rapidly to keep back the tears.

​There’s this phrase that’s been said to me at various times and in various ways during my singleness. I’m pretty sure it’s meant to be a compliment, but nothing stirs up the insecurities quite like it.

Can you guess what it is?

I just can’t figure out why you’re still single.

I know it’s well-meaning, but most single people would say it doesn’t feel like the compliment it’s purported to be.

I was scrolling social media when I stopped at a picture of an adorable baby girl. It was a joyful announcement of the newborn’s arrival into the world. Like all such announcements, it shared the time of birth, the weight of the baby, and the newborn’s new name.

When I read the name of this baby girl, there was a little lurch in my heart. 

The name of this new baby was one I’ve dreamed of giving a someday-daughter. 

When I was a girl, the women in my life who were mentors and role models were women who had gotten married by the end of their twenties. They were wives and moms, and this shaped the examples they set for me of being a godly woman.

My life has looked different from their’s, as I’m now 30 and still single. Through all these years of singleness, I haven’t had many examples of what it looks like to be a single godly woman.

​In my early twenties, I struggled with deep discontentment in my singleness. I knew that Jesus promised a life of fullness and abundance (see John 10:10), but I believed my life wouldn’t be fully abundant until I was married. I would often think thoughts like, If only I were married, then life would be good, then I would be happy, then I would feel complete.

Rather than seeing singleness as a gift - a gift just as joyful, beautiful, and purposeful as marriage - I saw it as something less - less joyful, beautiful, and purposeful.