Half the time it feels exhausting. I don’t want a chase. I don’t want to decode signals or wonder if someone is “interested enough.” I just want clarity—and maybe that’s too much to ask 😬.

Being single has made me brutally honest with myself. I know what I want, and I know what I don’t. I’ve stopped pretending to enjoy small talk or meaningless dates just to tick a box. My time is valuable ⏰, and I’d rather spend it alone than wasting it with someone who doesn’t respect it. And yet, society treats that choice like a tragedy, like I’m missing some essential human experience 💔.

Sometimes I envy couples who seem effortless, who laugh and share inside jokes and look like they’re perfectly aligned. But then I remember: I’m not them, and I don’t have to be. My freedom, my mornings with coffee and my thoughts, my spontaneous solo trips—they’re not consolation prizes. They’re victories 🏆☕✈️.

Here’s the thing I keep asking myself: why is independence so often mistaken for loneliness? And why do we feel the need to define happiness through someone else’s presence? 🤔💖