I was going to write this piece myself but ended up sobbing so much my laptop almost got water damage. I won’t lie, I found it mildly depressing to write the voice of The Single Girl, because it implies that this status is final. Definite. The End. Thanks but no thanks. It felt like a big “See ya later!” to the hopeless romantic inside of me that was sure Mr Right, or even Mr Right Now, was just hiding out the back of Freeman & Grey’s calling me an Uber.

So instead, here is the far more rational, and far less dramatic, Annie with her thoughts on the matter.

My name is Annie. I’m twenty-four years old, a big fan of all things Queen Bey, and have been a bridesmaid four times in the last two years. I’ve also been single for the last five.

Maybe you cringed at that last part, but you shouldn’t have. Perhaps you now feel the need to douse me in cat jokes or make the assumption that I know the complete choreography to the Single Ladies dance. One half of that last sentence may be true but it’s certainly nothing to be ashamed of (who run the world?). So stop with the single-shaming and let me give you a little lesson in being okay, no matter what is or isn’t on your ring finger.

I’ve been more than single for the last five years. I’ve lived in three different cities, studied three different subjects, gotten a job at one of my favourite fashion labels, watched some of my favourite people marry their favourite people, danced to more JB than humanly possible, lived with my best friends, gotten to know my parents as real people and through all of this, have fallen pretty hard for myself. Sure, there have been ups and downs; moments when I felt like I missed the train and periods of loneliness when I’ve deeply wanted a permanent plus one. I’ve liked people who haven’t liked me back, been friend-zoned at “hello”, and cried after the airport kiss because of the thing that could never be. But you know what? I’m okay. I’m still here, still happy. I can honestly say I’m finally comfortable in my own skin, content with being myself, by myself, and I’m pretty bloody proud of that.

I can also honestly say that I don’t want to be by myself forever, and I think that’s okay too. I definitely dream of the guy who shares my love for fettuccine, dressing in matching stripes and slaying it on the dance floor, but I try to not let it take up every inch of brain space.

I am enough.

And here’s what you need to hear: you are enough too. You are lovely just as you are. You are a fascinating, brilliant, multidimensional human being. You are a thousand things at once and it is as wonderful and terrifying as it sounds. It’s okay to long for love, but don’t let that desire drive your every move. Stop scanning the room for strangers hoping that one might fill that space. Fill it yourself; read books, have rambling conversations, do your worst while dancing in the kitchen, invest fully in where you are.

You are enough on your own, and where you are is where you are meant to be right now. Don’t waste your time on people who aren’t taken by you. If he isn’t eclipsed by you, wait for someone who is. Not because you need it, but because that’s where the best kind of love is born. For now, spend your time with people who make you great, try to laugh more, and don’t worry so much about how things look.

My baby sister had her heart broken pretty badly last year, and I’m watching her Bambi legs find their way back into singledom. We go through a lot of Grey’s Anatomy and too much Pizzuki (pizza/cookie hybrid), both of which have taught us lessons for life.

So for every heartbroken twenty-something trying to figure it out, for the lonely lass who is over the dating apps, or for the-most-part-content gal who, like me, just needs reminding every now and then, I leave you with Cristina Yang, “He is very dreamy, but he is not the sun. You are.”

Words by Annie Hollister-Jones

Header image via Tumblr