Sometimes being a single mid-thirties woman is really, really hard.

It’s funny. Before I could even type that sentence, I had to scroll back through my previous words and make sure that this is something I hadn’t said recently.

Because to talk about being single as a single person, is sort of taboo.

You can be seen as complaining or whining. People have all sorts of advice if you talk about it ever. They tell you all the things you should try (even though, they as a married human they might not have had to try said things to find their human).

Or they tell you that you are so lucky that you get to be single and wow look at all the things you can do.

Sometimes, (more than sometimes in my case) they tell you to lose weight and maybe that will help.

Or you get the person that tells you to trust Jesus more.

Or to not be so picky.

What I’m trying to say is that people have opinions.

And I’ve been realizing how much those opinions have caused me doubt and caused me to not believe in my self and caused me to step away from parts of who I am because it felt like too much.

Do I believe that there is a man out there for me who is going to open my doors because he knows it pisses me off and is going to force me to drink water and actually eat food because he loves me?

Yes. Absolutely.

But, if for some reason I don’t meet him for another ten years am I going to be ok?

Yes. Absolutely.

I’ve spent most of my adult life on the outskirts of other people’s relationships. Combined over the course of the last 14 years I have probably spent an entire wedding budget on weddings and baby showers.

I’ve dealt with, re-dealt with and dealt with again that currently I am no one’s first choice (this isn’t a bash to me, it’s just what it is.)

I’ve been hurt by men, I’ve been stood up, walked away from, made fun of.

I haven’t always been able to trust.

(I still don’t super trust, but those are other words for another day).

I am a self proclaimed strong independent woman who don’t need no man.

Yes, this seems like a stereotype and maybe it is. Maybe I come across as closed off and unwilling to get hurt again.

Maybe.

But it’s also just who I am. Not single, not out on a man hunt, but just a woman who gets up each day and takes care of herself and when her head hits the pillow she gets to lay across the whole bed and use all the blankets.

I’m grateful for the humans in my life who walk with me. For the ones that continually build me up. For the ones that remind me who I am despite how I sometimes speak to myself.

A few weeks ago I was introduced to an Instagram account called “The Naked Pastor” and he’s been talking about singleness in the church and one of his posts was about microagressions directed at single women. And one of them hit me in the eyes:

And I’ve realized how frequently in “the church” or in ministries I’ve been involved in that my singleness was because I was too much. I was too independent, too heavy, too busy. I’ve been told that I am/was single because I am too caring. That I give too much.

I’ve been told I was single because I don’t need to be in a relationship (and well, yes, that’s true- it’s just not up to someone else to decide that.).

I understand that this isn’t the only phase of life where people have opinions. Marriage, houses, babies. But, this is the one that I can obviously commentate on, so here I am.

I want to ask you that if you’ve ever told someone one of those things, it’s ok. If you’ve ever told me one of those things, or given me your opinion on my singleness: it’s ok.

We’re all human, we all at some part of our being just care.

And if you are a single 30-something women (or man), I want you to know I see you. I raise a glass to you.

You’re doing the damn thing.

PS: To everyone out there, please, for the love of God- don’t call my singleness brave.