Single Pringle Diaries: What no one tells you about being single in your 30s

Now that I’m actively reflecting over my Single Pringle journey over the last decade, I’ve realised there’s a stark difference between being single in your 20s and being single in your 30s.

Well, for me anyway.

In my 20s, I made the hard decision to end my long-term relationship. I was 26 and we were together for three and a half years but before that I’d swung from long-term relationship to long-term relationship, like a female Tarzan, grasping a new vine not long after letting go of the last.

Basically, I’d spent the vast majority of my 20s in a relationship.

I needed to restore my independence or at least really force myself to detach from that feeling of needing someone.

And no, it wasn’t an overnight success by any means.

There’s a reason I’m still the Single Friend where my settled friends wait with bated breath for the next outrageous dating story,

But still, they hope for the Bridget Jones of Harrogate to entertain them with the latest Single Pringle instalment. Like The Train Driver, who deliberately missed his last train home so that he “had to” crash on my couch, just as an excuse to get into my apartment.

I thank the dating gods that Uber is much more present in Harrogate now than it was back then, because you best believe the 30s Single Pringle me would have left that guy to fend for himself while I skipped off to go get some chicken nuggets.  

To be honest, I wish I could go back to 20s Single Pringle me and tell her that nuggs are always the better option and his poor planning on a first date really isn’t her problem.

As you can see, I still spent the last four years of my 20s searching and wasting a lot of time on the wrong men, all in the name of self-validation.

It wasn't until I turned 30 that I realised the difference between choosing to be single, as in, ending a relationship to be single and CHOOSING to be single, as in, I am content with my own company, if the right person comes along, fabulous, and in truth, I hope he does, eventually.

But if the wrong person comes along, well he can keep on keeping on because the feeling of validating myself with someone else's presence (the wrong someone) no longer exists.

Now I’m in my 30s, I no longer even entertain a conversation with a guy whose main form of communication is Snapchat because that either means I’m about to get a barrage of unsolicited dick pics, and maybe even videos, yes guys have been known to send unprompted videos - ick, or his birth year starts with a 2, either way that guy is not for me.

And somewhere between the chaos and the clarity, these are the things I’ve learned… the bits no one really tells you about being single in your 30s.

No one tells you there’s a difference between being single and choosing singleness

There is a generational consideration here, but before I truly sat in the power of being single, before doing things alone and prioritising my own wellbeing. The narrative around being single always felt like a handicap, and never a choice.

It is absolutely okay to choose being single, and definitely okay to choose solo. Plans alone, are still plans!

You stop dating for validation and start dating for peace

Gone are the feelings of sitting across from a guy and over analysing every aspect of the date to figure out how you’re ranking in his mind.

And instead, you lean more into measuring how much enjoyment there is in the moment. True, sometimes it’s none, but at least you’re emotionally mature enough to move on, no looking back, no drama.

Freedom exists… but so does responsibility

There is so much freedom in making decisions with no outside influence, going with your gut and your truest desire. You’re not bound by opinions, by how others may perceive your ideas, no wondering if someone would gladly travel down to London to walk around a Disney exhibition with you for four hours or feel like you need to rush through it when you sense their attention waiver. You just go for it.

But with that freedom comes fatigue, you’re responsible for everything, and though this fatigue is worth it in the name of adventure, it isn’t alleviated once you’re home.

You’re the only one looking after you, the one deciding what to eat every day, no one around to challenge the boredom of a quiet evening. You’re responsible for the mundane as well as the adventures, and boy can that be tiring.

Your life stops being a waiting room

No more waiting to make things happen. No more missing out on experiences because diaries don’t align, group chats stall, or plans get diluted to accommodate everyone else. There’s more action, fewer missed opportunities, and a lot less time spent waiting for replies before deciding whether something is “worth it”.

That’s not to say this is about cutting people off or doing whatever you want without consideration. It’s about recognising that if you’re choosing to be single, you’re also choosing not to put your life on pause.

You can still value your friendships and decide to get up early to catch a sunrise, hop on a train to tick off that bucket list show. No plus one needed.

That shift alone changes everything.

Being single in your 30s isn’t lonely, it’s intentional

It isn’t about peddling the empowerment of being alone for Girl Power sake, though as a 90s baby, it is well within my right to do so if I wish…

What matters is that we don’t shy away from choosing ourselves, and that isn’t limited to being single. You learn so much in your own company, whether that’s a ticket for one to a movie, or a full-blown adventure that includes air miles.

We should be able to choose that freedom without apology, and in doing so, truly understand our own boundaries.

When you’re comfortable in your own company, your standards become clearer, your boundaries stronger, and the people you invite into your life are there by choice, not by convenience.