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Years ago, when I was living in a different state, I received my one and only summons to jury duty in my entire life. I was pretty sure I’d never be selected for a jury: a relative who’d done time and an advanced degree.  

The crime was violent, the lawyers unimpressive. I privately called them Dumb (the prosecution) and Dumber (the defense). They asked us questions. When Dumber came to me, he began, “Mrs. Goodwin…”

I forgot where I was. He knew I was single from the juror questionnaire. I burst out, “I am not Mrs. Goodwin. I am Ms. Goodwin or Dr. Goodwin.” 

Dumber got flustered for a moment, apologized, and kept going. Needless to say, I was gone from the jury in a matter of minutes. Getting genuinely annoyed with the defense lawyer was added to the list of other reasons.

I thought of this when, in the same week, a dental assistant and a hair salon assistant – both of them strangers to me – called me “Miss Cathy.” We were not in the south. We were in a commercial setting. I was a paying customer, not their maiden aunt. 

This incident bothered me. I don’t know if they were well-meaning people who were addressing my age or my single status or both. 

So I posted in a social media forum: What was this all about? 

Several people pointed out that “Miss Cathy” would be common in the South and in certain cultures. Other people said it’s better than “sweetie.” I don’t think we should have to choose. Still others said it’s better than “ma’am,” which I don’t mind: it’s the equivalent of “sir” in the military and (I believe) the police. 

Of course, some people said the usual “get over yourself” and “it’s a first world” problem. I ignored those.

At least one medical center takes the matter seriously, but with laughable consequences. I get most of my care at PennMedicine, which has a world-class research reputation and a complete misunderstanding of some customer experience.

I’m not sure when or why PennMedicine decided not to call people Mr., Ms., etc., but instead required the staff (or so they told me)  to address patients as either “Last name Goodwin” or by their first names. 

Once a tech tried to bypass the regulations by calling me “sweetie.” I set her straight (she decided to call me “ma’am” since she couldn’t call me “Ms. Goodwin”)  and never went back to that clinic. 

One lab went a step further. They decided to give patients tickets with numbers when they checked in and called people up by their numbers. I felt like a chicken at a butcher shop and never went back to that lab.

To some people it’s not a big deal; a fortyish male told me the medical people call him “sweetie” all the time and he doesn’t mind. And some people from the South may be more tolerant; here in South Philly you’re more likely to hear unprintable alternatives to terms of endearment.

I’d probably have better blood pressure if I shrugged it off, but I believe that what you call me is sending a message.

At least in Philadelphia, when the person calling me that name is a stranger being paid with my good money, I’d like to be called “Ms. Goodwin.” And if you’re trying to win me over, like that lawyer was, I hope you’d consult your records and see what I checked when you demanded to know my marital status. 

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She was a young country music singer faced with what looked like a once-in-a-lifetime offer in the music business. But she still said “no” to Elvis Presley. 

As she tells it, the night before the taping, Elvis’s manager, Colonel Tom Parker, called to say they were ready to record, but Elvis only recorded songs when he held at least half the rights to the song. 

Dolly, of course, was shocked and disappointed. After all, as Business Insider writes,  “In what world does a young, sequined country singer with just a handful of chart-toppers to her name turn down a special request from the King of Rock?” 

 According to that article, she “cried all night,” but she said no.  So the recording was canceled.

Of course, the world knows that Dolly got her validation when she handed a Grammy award to Whitney Houston, for perhaps the most famous and successful cover of the song.

Beneath all that glitter, Dolly was a shrewd businesswoman. She knew one of the most important skills in business and life: the ability to walk away from a deal that violates your principles with a firm “No.” 

I’m always surprised to learn how many successful people have a history of walking away from something: houses, jobs, possessions, relationships, and often even family or what looks like a once-in-a-lifetime deal.

Several years ago, I was living in a condo which originally seemed like the best deal I’d ever had. I loved the first six or seven years. Then things went sour. The management company seemed to be making bad decisions. The board seemed cowardly. Even the environment changed as the outside got louder.

At first I tried to see if change was possible. I didn’t think I could leave. Too many pets. A challenging market. An unsellable condo.   

Fast forward another seven years and I wonder what took me so long to move. I found a small condo in a well-managed building. The location turned out to be ideal. I moved just in time to grab ultra-low interest rates. Best of all, due to the building’s configuration, it’s as quiet as a retreat house. They’ll have to carry me out feet first.

Walking away doesn’t always feel strong when you’re in the middle of doing it.

You see the obstacles, the hassle, and sometimes the pain. You anticipate all sorts of future regrets. And in most “walk-away” decisions, you don’t get the payoff for a long time – sometimes years…the inner voice that says quietly, “You did the right thing.” 

I’ve walked away from many deals over the years. I wasn’t always right…But I usually was.

Sometimes I see posts like:  “My partner is a jerk. I’m blocked from getting what I want in life.” Or when a single person says, “I felt unwelcome at the family reunion.” 

The writer knows it’s time to walk away, but the obstacles seem formidable. And maybe they’re seeking validation and permission: It really IS worth the scary decision. 

Dolly Parton’s world of country music has always held this wisdom. 

Like the Kenny Rogers song about the old gambler’s advice: Know when to hold and when to fold.

Or when Faron Young told a radio station that didn’t want to play Charley Pride, a black artist, “If you take him off, take all of my records off.”

Or Alan Jackson’s decision to risk going off-script sing a George Jones song at the CMA awards, when Jones himself was slighted by the industry. 

And more intensely, that George Jones song about the man who didn’t get his place out in the  country until everything else – including his own life – was gone. It’s about somebody who didn’t walk away for thirty years…didn’t even set limits.

It’s one of the saddest songs in the repertoire about what happens if you live your life for others and never dare to say no…and what’s waiting for you at the end. 

The post Dolly Parton Knew When To Walk Away appeared first on .

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I wondered about this topic after reading about people who want to hear sounds around them even if they’re alone. I saw posts all over the Internet saying that people – single or otherwise –  talk to themselves, their inanimate objects, their plants and of course their pets. 

I have always been single and always lived alone as an adult.  When I had a dog, I gave her commands. I rarely converse with the cat; she’s not a good listener and she rarely talks to me. I call her over by yelling “Hey cat!” or making scratching noises.  I don’t talk to my vacuum cleaner or any other objects.

It seemed to me that people who are really “Single at Heart” (Bella DePaulo’s term) would want to enjoy silence as well as solitude. So I asked the Facebook group Community of Single People. 

And I was surprised at the answers. I’d always assumed people who liked being single wouldn’t want to hear voices, including their own, when they’re home alone. And indeed a few people said, “Never.” 

But a lot of people talk to themselves in very diverse ways.

Almost 80 people responded to the original question so at least this group found the question interesting. Based on my unscientific, not-too-careful countdown, here’s what I found:

• Some people talk out loud as a way to organize their thoughts, make decisions or plan.
• One person reports singing to themselves.
• Some people yell at the TV during a game. They also yell at other drivers who make dumb moves and they curse themselves when they drop or bump into something.
• Only a couple of people talk to inanimate objects. One person talks to their bike.
• A few people made snarky or humorous remarks. A couple of people say they talk to themselves to have intelligent conversations.
• Three people said they thought talking to themselves was related to their being neurodivergent. Talking aloud helped them process information.

The largest category –  by far -was people who talk to animals. A few people talk to live animals they encounter on the way to doing other things: the spiders who get into the house or the cows they see in pastures.

But almost a quarter of the respondents reported talking to their cats. A few said they respond when the cat talks first. Two people talked to birds – hummingbirds and cockatiels. Many people talked to their dogs but the cats were the most likely conversation partners. 

So I’m going to have to revise my thoughts. 

I was unconsciously reflecting the stereotypes of happy single people: I assumed that being alone meant wanting to disconnect. 

The book Solitude: The Science and Power of Being Alone,  emphasizes the importance of choice. People who are forced to be isolated, like prisoners in solitary confinement, react very differently to solitude, compared to people who escape to their own space in search of peace and quiet. 

So single people may not necessarily want less connection. They may simply want to control the quantity, quality and timing of their connections. 

And sometimes that’s what we single people want. Not criticism, not therapy, not challenge…just assurance that we’re worthwhile human beings.

So maybe I’m the one who’s missing out on the benefits of communicating with my cat. Alas, when I try to tell her about my day, she’s more interested in playing with her favorite toy mouse. I have to conclude that we’re outliers. 

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“I’m working on a project about being single,” I answered the “What’s your next book about?” question.

He laughed. “I’m seeing lots of videos and articles about single people everywhere! Doesn’t everybody get it?”

In one sense, I agree with his view, which I’ve heard from many people.

But the truth is, you’re seeing a lot of pro-single material because you are identified as someone who’s interested. Readers with a more traditional view — who think marriage is the “normal” way to go — may not be seeing them.

How most of the world treats single people

As a certified lifelong single person, I’ve found that the people you’d expect to be most aware often are the most clueless. It happens whether we’re dealing one-to-one with friends or with faceless organizations.

 I was chatting with a man I’ve known through a mutual group membership. He’s avidly looking for someone to marry. He seems to believe marriage will mean coming home to a hot meal rather than being in love, but that’s another story. He is surprised when I tell him I’ve never married. “I thought you were divorced,” he said. “You seem happy!”

A lifetime single person happy? Imagine!

A medical tech asked me if I regret not having children.

My grocery delivery service features economy-size options. I’ve pointed out that in my city, one-third of the homes are single-occupied and suggested, “Why not a special for singles?”  

Medical staff can be especially obtuse. A few years ago I was preparing for outpatient eye surgery. I asked for post-op instructions. “You’ll get them later,” I was told. Somehow, nobody had ever put together that if you’re too groggy to go home without a ride, you’ll be too groggy to understand instructions, and you might not have someone standing by to go to the drugstore. 

How will things change?

I believe we single people have to become more outspoken as advocates. It can be exhausting and tiresome, but we need to speak up.  From my experience I’m making these suggestions.

First, let people know if you’re single and happy.

You may be the first happy single they’ve ever met — at least, who admits it. Many people can’t use “being single” and “being happy” in the same sentence.

Second, it’s helpful to prepare a response to zingers, like, “Why aren’t you married yet?”

 I recommend a polite version and a snarky version. Polite usually means changing the subject or saying something like, “It’s not my thing.” Be prepared for disbelief and follow-ups.

The snarky answers are more fun. You can flip the script (“Why are you married?”) or be more direct. When I had travel jobs, I used to say, “Why be a maid when you can have one?” Now it sounds a little obnoxious, but it got the point across. 

You can always say politely, “It’s a personal decision” before changing the subject. Rather than educate everyone, I’ve found it helpful to make the point that “this question is intrusive and shouldn’t be asked.”

Third, we need to make our voices heard when we see ads or encounter institutional behaviors that prejudge single people. Craig Wynne of our Facebook group, Community of Single People, wrote to a movie theater that had advertised something like, “Movies are more fun with a partner.” The theatre wrote back an apology: it hadn’t occurred to them that their behavior might be anti-single.

That’s the ideal situation: You educated them and got a response that shows they learned.

In my experience, health care systems are the worst. They may assume you’re helpless if you don’t have a partner or child. Let the Patient Services department of your hospital know when you’re treated unfairly or insulted; if necessary, write to the Chief of Staff or the hospital CEO. Point out the consequence: research shows that people who don’t trust the medical system will be non-compliant and avoid care.  

Write to politicians about government actions that hurt singles. Point out that you’re a voter who’s left out of most family-friendly programs. They really do read those letters. It will take a while, but eventually it will happen.

So in the end…

 We can answer the question, “Don’t most people get it?” with a resounding “No.” Anyone who’s single will continue to encounter people who think marriage is the “normal” lifestyle and who (often unconsciously) create barriers and obstacles for single people, all the while expecting them to be lonely and miserable. We need to help them discover the truth. 

The post Everyone Knows About Single People. Except Most of the World. appeared first on .

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Recently, my dental clinic sent me a notice to pay, two weeks before the due date. Then they sent me another notice about one week before. This time I called: “I’m supposed to pay this when I come in for my follow-up visit. Why am I getting notices?”
“It’s our software,” she said. “We can’t do anything about it.”

A few weeks earlier, I had a medical test. I talked to the doctor about it afterwards. “No problems.” 

Two weeks after the test, I got a snail mail letter from the hospital, addressed “Dear Sir or Madam.” It said that the test results needed to be discussed ASAP with the provider. 

What happened? Did the machine have a bad day so we needed to recalibrate the results? If it’s ASAP and urgent, why send a snail mail instead of a text message?

When I queried through my portal, a nurse answered cheerfully: “The letter was sent by snail mail because it was intended for the small percentage of patients who weren’t on the internet. Just ignore it.”

So why did these examples really annoy me? I flashed back to my psychology classes, where we studied Stanley Milgram’s famous experiment about willingness to obey. 

Briefly, subjects were instructed to deliver painful shocks to a “learner” who failed an assignment. Of course, the whole thing was a set-up: shocks were fake and the “learner” was an actor trained to emit howls of pain on cue. But subjects believed they were following “orders” of the white-coated experimenter. Would they comply? 

It turns out that 65% of the subjects were willing to inflict what they thought were painful shocks; 35% refused. The experimenters concluded that large numbers of people will obey what they think are legitimate orders.

One of those who refused was a Dutch engineer. He said something like, “I am an engineer. I know this level of electric shock will be fatal. I won’t do it.”  His background made him question the meaning of the whole scene.

So what does this have to do with my stories?

In the modern medical world, nobody inflicts painful shocks on anyone else. But as patients, we are often asked to “obey,” i.e., be compliant. That covers everything from taking recommended tests and medicines to tolerating a noisy TV-filled waiting room to accepting mistakes, both medical and non-medical. 

When the front desk says, “The problem is our software,” many – probably most – people will accept that story. We forget that to many people, software is a mysterious unknown created by the same forces that give us hurricanes and tornadoes. When they hear, “It’s the software,” they nod knowingly and empathize with the practice.

I’ve been working with software for the last 20 or 30 years. I work in a coworking space with people who write software. I know software is just lines of code created by imperfect humans and that some software is better than others. I know that software shouldn’t drive an organization’s strategy: you choose or modify software to meet your goals. 

So, like that engineer in the experiment, I didn’t buy the explanation. I developed a strong distrust of the practice and began looking elsewhere.

In the case of the letter, my degree and research were all in services marketing. I’ve consulted and written about marketing communications. So I am aware that for a relatively small cost, you can hire a professional to write a clear letter with no questions; the letter could explain that it’s primarily intended for people who don’t do portals or internet and everybody else can ignore it. 

Even better, why doesn’t this prestigious, well-funded organization hire a coder to write a program to send letters only to that one small segment? Solopreneurs use mailing systems like KIT that can segment their audience; why can’t they?

Actions like these lower trust, and trust is associated with medical noncompliance as well as other concerns. If you want to reach the least technologically aware segment, why make things more confusing for everybody else?

I once got the run-around about a billing mix-up and (after a letter to the hospital president) was transferred to someone who was actually helpful. She told me she hears all the time from patients who work in quality control and wonder why the hospital can’t do better – people who didn’t fall for the story that “We can’t do anything about this.” 

A lot of my friends can’t understand why I get so angry and mistrustful with simple mistakes.  But I’ve been conditioned by my background and education. I don’t see these as isolated incidents. I see them as signals of how the organization puts energy into creating a positive experience and how much they really respect their patients.
 

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It seems like a small thing, but there’s a big message: We don’t care. You are a number to us.

I’m talking about communication from large prestigious medical facilities that sound like solid advice.  The kind that medical professionals shrug off with, “What’s the big deal?”

I have a background in marketing. Most of my research was in service delivery – the reaction of customers to the services they received.  So I find myself asking, “What does routine communication reveal about the organization’s service philosophy?”

Recently, I had an important test at a hospital I’ll call Y, which is also a major teaching hospital. The doctor had met me right after the test and told me everything was fine and no action was needed.

Two weeks after the test, I got a snail mail letter beginning, “Dear Sir or Madam,” saying that there was a test result that should be discussed ASAP.

If it was ASAP, why did they use snail mail? Was the test result something new they discovered, like maybe the machine was having a bad day and our results call for a review? Was it a one-size-fits-all letter sent to everyone who took the test? Or to a sub-group of patients, based on a meaningful distinction?

I have a portal and I know how to use it. I sent a message to my provider’s office, which confirmed that it was a letter sent to everyone, but intended only for the small percentage of people who do not use email, text or portals. They told me to ignore it. The institution itself acknowledged that the communication was not meant for me.

To them it was not a big deal; to me, it was a sign they couldn’t be bothered to have the letter written by a professional for a few hundred dollars. At the very least, the letter could have said, “We send this to everyone,” and, “If you have a portal, please disregard this letter,” and, “If you have already discussed the results please ignore this letter.”

And how about “Hello” or “Good morning” instead of “Dear Sir or Madam?” I haven’t seen that salutation in years. A prestigious medical institution can’t be bothered to personalize communcations — something many solopreneurs do in their newsletters.

From another local hospital I’ll call X, I received a happy birthday message via the portal. The message suggested I use the day not to celebrate but to review my annual medical tests. I’ve never done screenings but I can think of happier ways to spend my birthday. However, there was a small list of tests attached with a note that I don’t need to have any of them because I was too old.

Surely they have a computer function that can sort on birth date so I wouldn’t get the message at all. If they can’t hire a good systems professional, what else are they not doing?

I also received a large, glossy postcard from Hospital X, urging me to undergo a certain screening test. They wrote in big letters, “This test saves lives.”

That is true. But according to the NNT database, over 500 people must take the test, over a period of years, to save one life. Knowing the truth made me skeptical of the message. I also questioned why a hospital would spend resources on a message that actually undermines informed decision-making.

Messages like these create a lack of trust, which in turn will influence the way people interact with the institution.

I personally find it hard to be even routinely courteous and compliant when I’m treated like a number and sent ambiguous messages that take time to deal with. When a medical professional makes a recommendation, I’m not compliant. I say, “Are you sure? Let me see the evidence.”

Some people may be able to laugh these things off; I can’t help suspecting that some of those people get unnecessary tests and procedures. And there’s a cumulative effect of getting misleading messages over and over again instead of on rare occasions.

For-profit companies understand that customers make decisions based on trust. They understand that communications influence relationships. Why don’t the hospitals? Why are they spending money on things that create skepticism?

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I once said to a married male acquaintance, “At least you have a built-in support system.” And he replied, “True! But your support system doesn’t ever go away.”

I still remember this conversation .

I see posts on Facebook. “I love being single but sometimes I see couples who seem to be so supported.” Or sometimes I wish I had someone to go to movies with.”

You see a beautiful couple who just got married. You think, “What bliss!” But you also have to accept that they’ll be together when one of them loses their job, when one of them gets sick, when an in-law causes trouble, when they’re asked to attend a mind-numbing event to help a partner. Married people have also written that there are times when they just want to be alone for awhile.

Those are the trade-offs.

Single people have trade-offs too. We must find friends or resources, on our own, when the house or car needs maintenance. We may get banished to the kids’ table at weddings and family reunions. We have to go through the emotional labor of setting boundaries with people who assume we’re always available to baby-sit or work overtime. And no matter how much we enjoy our solitude, sometimes it would be nice to have someone on standby to attend a movie or a company party.

When I hear people complaining about the downsides, I want to scream, “You made these choices. Live with them!”

Trade-offs can make our lives simpler and easier. I got this idea from Greg McKeown’s Essentialism. He argues that instead of asking how we can make everything work, we should ask which problem we want to solve.

That idea resonated with me.

The problems of being single are things like, “Find someone to go to the movies with” and “Find a way to succeed financially with just one income.”

I suspect the problems of being married include “finding time to be alone” and “dealing with someone who’s changed in the last ten years.”

So when someone tells me, “I feel sad sometimes when I don’t have that special someone,” I want to tell them, “You’ve made a trade-off. Your problem is dealing with life without that special someone.”

A trade-off is not necessarily a mistake. You may love the path you’ve chosen but still recognize that it’s not always perfect. It means you chose the roses but you acknowledge the thorns.

I don’t know what to tell someone who hasn’t chosen their tradeoffs. Maybe it’s time to do some soul-searching, with or without a professional. Sometimes if you just wait in suspense, the world around you gives you an answer. You’re drawn to a particular person or you feel relief when you go home to your cat and you don’t want to give that up…even for a special someone.

Or just ask the question: “Which set of problems do I want to solve?” Because if you choose one set of solutions, you’re also choosing one set of problems. And the new problems may or may not make up for the solutions.

The post The Problems I Chose When I Chose Singlehood appeared first on .

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“But aren’t you lonely?” That’s what a lot of people assume about those of us who are single. Many of us live alone (and wouldn’t have it any other way). 

We see a lot of posts on Facebook about people who feel lonely, and there’s been a lot of conversation about “the epidemic of loneliness.” 

When I read articles that associate “single” with “lonely,” I suspect they’re defining single as “unmarried.” They’re lumping together “singles who really would rather be coupled” and “singles who see singlehood as a positive and want to stay that way, thank you very much.” 

When I read about desperate singles who define relationships in terms of those they befriend in social media, I also shudder. I want flesh and blood friends – people I can call or write.

In her book Single at Heart, author/sociologist Bella DePaulo points to the deep friendships of single people. She says this on many of her videos, too. And she points out that married people have the One, but single people have the Ones.

I haven’t seen research on how single-at-heart people approach friendship. However, I see a lot of posts about friendship that don’t dig into what happens when your friends are “the ones.” And many discussions of friends seem to be addressed to people who self-define as lonely, who see friends as a substitute for coupledom.

But what if your friends have value in themselves – not as a make-do replacement for something you’d rather have?  What if they’re there to enrich our lives and make them more meaningful and enjoyable? How do you make those kinds of friends?

Friendships are based on common interests, not a general desire (let alone a need) for friends.

Rather than look for friends, I’ve learned to identify activities that are enjoyable, whether or not I make a new friend. Friends emerge as a side dish rather than the main course.  Personally, I’ve made friends from improv classes, ceramics, my coworking space, and my neighborhood. I have enjoyed doing things where I haven’t made friends, but that’s okay, too. 

People who feel fulfilled with themselves do not go looking for friendship to fill holes. They do not appear needy. I frequently say that friends are like bank loans: they’re more easily accessible when you don’t need them. 

Friendships go in cycles, just like lives do.

Some friendships last a long time and some disappear naturally. It’s usually not worth figuring out what went wrong when a friend disappears or ghosts you; I’ve rarely heard of friendship repaired by discussion and analysis. People’s interests change. Their lives take different shapes.

On one of my articles, someone commented that friendship is like a garden. I’d add that gardeners rarely keep tending what they have: they buy seeds and install new plants every year. 

Geography matters.

If you like the garden analogy, remember that a plant grows well when it’s planted in the right soil. The right soil for one plant may be toxic to another.

In some places it’s just naturally difficult to make friends; almost everyone who lives there grew up there. Other cities welcome only certain types of people.

It’s important to choose a location where you feel comfortable. I avoid expressions like “Bloom where you are planted” or “If you can’t make friends here, you won’t make friends anywhere.”  People can become instantly popular (or unpopular) just by moving.

Sometimes the grass really is greener on the other side.

And you can’t generalize that “cities are better for single people than rural areas.” I put out a post in the Facebook group, Community of Single People, asking about rural singles. Responses were numerous and diverse. A rural area can be deadly for single people, but many single people have made significant numbers of caring friends. If I wanted a rural life, I’d learn directly from those who’ve been there

Most of us don’t choose friends based on their potential availability as unpaid helpers.

Friendship can mean different things, from a casual coffee meeting now and then to a more demanding relationship that involves time-consuming caring.

Yet even the most well-meaning friend may not be available at the very moment you need help. A friend may be warm and supportive but uncomfortable doing what you need, such as looking after your cat for a week. And some people are good friends for your “up” times but no help when you’re down.

But unless you have a contractual relationship, entitlement can’t come into the picture.  Most single-at-heart people place a high value on self-sufficiency. They hire help, know who can help, or do it themselves, whether they’re moving furniture or dealing with a dead mouse. 

In summary: People who embrace singlehood rarely describe themselves as lonely or “needing” friends. 

I’ve read discussions of loneliness that talk about making friends as “work.” I have never heard people who genuinely enjoy being single talk this way. Friends are there to be enjoyed and to add enrichment to our lives. 

 If you try to make a plant thrive by overwatering and paying too much attention, it won’t grow. (This is usually what I do to plants, so I know.)  A good friendship is like a plant that practically grows itself with minimal but careful attention: caring without smothering.

The people that Bella DePaulo calls “single at heart” people love their friends. But they value their “alone time” and give others the same space. 

The post What friendship looks like when you stop looking for friends: The unique role of friends in the lives of people who want to be single appeared first on .

Photo from Depositphotos: Cat draws a line.

A single man (“Bill”) saves up his money and buys a house with a swimming pool. His brother, sister-in-law and three children want to come over to swim. Bill says no: I don’t want to be responsible for the safety of children who tend to be uncontrollable. The brother waits for a time when Bill won’t be home and sneaks the family in to use the pool. Bill comes home to find these unauthorized users.

“Alice,”  a happy single childless woman, faces her sister’s request: “Can you watch the kids for a few hours while my husband and I go off for date night?” Alice says, “I have to be somewhere else at eight. This is firm.” The sister says, “Why? You don’t have any obligations; you’re just being selfish.” The parents came home several hours late, having turned their phones off as soon as they left.

More stories about annoying relatives? They’re really stories about a critical skill that happy single people learn. They’re based on a very funny YouTube video series “JK Stealing the Internet” that in turn is based on the Reddit group, “Am I the A——?” 

“Bill” actually called the police. The cops came, viewed security videos of the family sneak-in, and issued a citation and warning.  

 “Alice” had to make calls to change her plans. The parents didn’t come home when they promised and even shut off their phones so Alice couldn’t call them.

Both “Alice” and “Bill” set boundaries. Bill enforced his; Alice didn’t. Many commenters thought Alice also should have reported the children as abandoned; after all, it’s hardly responsible to turn off your phone when you have a babysitter.

Being willing to call the police may sound extreme. But many single people are probably cheering for Bill – not because he called the police, but because he enforced a boundary. And setting boundaries is a skill that happy single people learn and use. 

Why do we need boundaries?   

Coupled people make all kinds of assumptions about single people. They assume they can influence our time, home, vacation, and priorities. They assume we can be counted on as a free resource to help them. That’s because they assume if you don’t have a spouse and kids, you have infinite time on your hands, and you’d love to help with their children.

Bella DePaulo has a laugh-aloud story in her book, Single at Heart, about assumptions people make that aren’t as serious but are extremely common. 

 It was the day after 9/11, and she’d been on the phone all day.  She was exhausted when a neighbor called to say, “I was thinking about you being all alone and thought you’d want someone to talk to.” Obviously the neighbor associated “single” with “being alone” or even “lonely.”

An Essential Superpower You Can Learn

So based on these stories, and others too painful to tell, I’d say the number one superpower of successful single people is establishing boundaries. Boundaries come with an “or else” that can be as mild as saying “no” and walking away or as strong as calling the police.

You’re inviting me on a group vacation where all the single people share a room? That’s a firm “No. I’m not coming.”
You asked me an invasive personal question? Keep doing this and we’re no longer friends.
I’m supposed to eat at the kids’ table because I’m single? I just remembered I have to be someplace else.

Sure, some friends and families react badly. Setting a boundary carries risk. But what does the relationship look like when people don’t respect your boundaries? Will they keep pushing you and testing your limits for years to come?  Do they see you as a mature, responsible, independent adult? 

For me, one “no” answer is enough to disqualify them from having a place in my life. You’ll have to decide on your own. Going along just to keep the peace? It’ll be much harder to set boundaries later on.

Setting boundaries isn’t mean.  You’re educating others about their assumptions.

For a long time, those assumptions weren’t challenged. If you were a spinster, you were a sad little person who couldn’t find someone to take care of you. If you were a bachelor, you were a carefree, selfish person who loved playing “rich uncle” to other people’s children.

Alas, many otherwise intelligent people hold fast to these stereotypes. Not everyone has read a book on single people.

Fortunately, this superpower of setting boundaries is a skill that can be learned, even if it can be challenging at first. It doesn’t have to be something you’re born with.  I’ve seen what happens when single people first experience the joy that comes from the power of taking control of their own lives, gaining more freedom than they believed was possible.

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Image by Andriyko Podilnyk on Unsplash.

Recently, I’ve been seeing an unfortunate trend among articles and posts celebrating the joys of solitude. They see being alone not as a joyful opportunity, but as an escape from being around people, dealing with noise, holding political conversations, and more. This approach views solitude as withdrawing from the world, not as freedom to do what you enjoy in your own company.

Don’t get me wrong. I love staying home. Currently, I’m down to one cat who doesn’t like other cats, but for over 20 years I had 2 cats and a dog. After years of moving around, I now have a top-floor condo that is as quiet as a retreat house.  I can easily spend a day working on my latest writing project and learning Italian by reading giallos – Italian detective stories.

But there’s a misconception that single people want to be alone *all* the time. That is false. Single people tend to be more active in community associations, as Robert Putnam points out in the iconic book Bowling Alone.  Bella DePaulo goes even further in her book Single at Heart, pointing out that single people act as caretakers for their loved ones, volunteer, and have lots of friends. We’re not just an adult version of “Home Alone 5.”

There’s also a misconception that choosing to be alone means rejecting components of being in the world. People who embrace the single identity are saying “yes,” not “no.” Not just “no more irritating political conversations” or “no more boring dates.” We’re saying “yes to more silence in our lives” and “yes to making creative choices.”

Let’s face it: without reasons to get out and about, staying home would feel like serving a sentence under house arrest. Being snowbound is fun for a day or two, and then it becomes a trap. Even during quarantine, I went for long walks and to safe outdoor places, like farmers markets.

There’s no denying that solitude and a day alone can be a real gift. It’s why so many of us single people look forward to the holidays. We turn down invitations to eat turkey in the company of others in favor of a day doing exactly what we want.

Years ago, I spent a Thanksgiving holiday reading a murder mystery in the dog park while my dog played happily with her pack. When people asked what I was doing to celebrate, I lied and told them I would be going out in the evening.

But I find myself getting nervous when people say they’re staying home to avoid the bad parts of being in the world. Even desert hermits had a community. I want to think of time alone as a valve that opens and closes…not one that shuts out the world 24/7.

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