There are two very different kinds of single people out in the world.
What we could call the cheerfully single on the one hand, and the catastrophically single on the other.
The first kind might have last been in a relationship five years ago, or perhaps six or seven.
They aren't really counting at this stage.
They hope they might find someone one day, but if they don't, they could tolerate their own company, possibly till the very end.
They've got good friends, they go travelling, they pursue their hobbies.
In the evening, they make themselves a nourishing dinner for one and sit on their own in the living room, absorbed in an article about ants or a film from Iran.
They are keeping half an eye out for a partner.
They're on an app or two.
But sometimes a week goes by without them checking and they're pretty discerning when they do assess candidates.
Most people aren't going to be right for them.
They're only going to allow someone into their lives if they're utterly convinced.
They've got to be very attractive to them, kind and on their wavelength.
There is just no point if they aren't.
Most won't be.
And that's fine.
It's just the way of the world.
Contrast this with the catastrophically single.
They've been in a state of mania ever since they got out of their last relationship on February 10th at 930pm or whatever date is engraved on their battered hearts.
However old they happen to be, it's always about to be far too late.
They're on the verge of hitting 30, or 56, or 74, and then it will all be over.
They'll be relegated to the lowest circle of hell, reserved for the lepers of solitude.
In their desperation, they put themselves on every available app.
They check them every hour, in fact every minute.
They set up date after date, two or three a day on some weekends if they can make it.
They're not paying attention so much to quality.
A friend could quickly tell them that the candidates were obviously wrong.
The key thing for them is to stay busy all the time.
What could explain such radical differences?
Why are some members of the species one way and the other another?
The difference has everything to do with what singlehood means in the eyes of each category.
For the cheerfully single, it means nothing more or less than that the right person hasn't shown up yet and may never.
Crucially, it doesn't say anything whatsoever about them.
It doesn't indicate that they're awful or corrupt or ugly or stupid or weak or mean.
It doesn't affect their fundamental right to exist, their dignity and their basic goodness.
It just means, plain and simple, that the right person isn't there.
Whereas, for the catastrophically single, aloneness is fraught with the most appalling associations.
It's a reminder of what they deeply know and fear, and are in constant flight from.
That they are dreadful people, that there is something venal and disgusting about them, that no one wants them, that there's a hideous truth lurking in them that everyone is either laughing at or pitying them.
From these two views of themselves, two enormous consequences follow.
The cheerfully single will be just that, cheerful and at peace.
The catastrophically single will be tormented every hour.
In extremis, after too many bad dates and aborted relationships, they will want to kill themselves.
Because being alone and unchosen confirms that they don't have the right to be.
What on earth could explain these two ways of seeing matters?
As always, it's childhood.
The way we perceive ourselves now is a legacy of how we were perceived in the early years by other people.
How we assess ourselves as single people is a bellwether of our emotional wherewithal.
Some of us the ones who need to be in a relationship right now were severely neglected as children overlooked for a sibling perhaps?
We were never good enough and we now hate our own shadows.
Whereas the other kind have been given a lifetime of protection because they appealed very much to the people who put them on the earth.
So now it doesn't matter if they don't have a partner.
That's someone else's loss.
If they've been on their own a decade and are eating dinner by themselves again tonight.
They're gorgeous and they sort of know it, without arrogance or pride.
This is privilege.
This is luxury.
This is what we should all want for ourselves.
One of the greatest indications of good parenting is that your child will never feel ashamed not to be in a relationship.
