I sat around a bonfire with some of my single friends as each one shared what the hardest part about being single was for them.
There was a common thread among our answers that sort of surprised me. It wasn’t the loneliness, it wasn’t the doubting our attractiveness, it wasn’t the feeling not good enough, it wasn’t the comparisons or envy that many named as the hardest.
It was the not knowing when our singleness would end and a romantic relationship would begin.
This fall, I went to a wedding that didn’t have any sort of bouquet toss, and I was like: *insert praise hands emoji*
I’m not a fan of the bouquet toss. In fact, I actively avoid them.
This is partly because I’m introverted and that kind of attention is not my thing.
But it’s mostly because being singled out for being single would cause a tidal wave of shame to swell up in my heart, and in its swell would come a deluge of insecurities that battered hard and thundered loud with all the ways I’m not good enough.