Walking yourself home at night: what being single in my twenties has taught me

I wake up to the gentle whir of my fan and the soft stream of light as it penetrates my yellow curtains. I roll over and silence the simulated chirping of birds emulating from my phone. The comforting haze of sleep holds me close to the sheets, and I wonder if you’re already awake.

The promise of a strawberry scone from the bakery pulls me from my bed. Another day, I think, as I hoist myself up. Another cup of coffee, another day of lectures and note taking, another glass of wine to help me sleep tonight.

I’ve been in relationships for most of my life. I had a high school sweetheart, a few boys who never amounted to anything important, and then you. You were my first love, the first boy my parents actually liked, the first person I had really become dependent on. If it weren’t for you, I think I would’ve starved during my first year of living alone. And if not, I’m certain I would’ve burned my apartment to the ground trying to pan fry haddock.

Losing you hurt. In more ways than I can express through text. It was as if I lost my best friend and my safety net all in one moment. People talk about the pain of loss, but nobody talks about the repercussions of losing someone you depended on. Bad days are never that bad when you go home to a warm embrace and the love of someone who can take the edge off with a single glance. When you left, I felt like I kept falling backward, without the ability to catch myself.

A few months ago, I came across an article titled The 10 Best Things About Being Single in Your Early Twenties. Being single, and in my twenties, I was intrigued. As I glanced through a list of reasons why young women should embrace their inner goddesses and their newfound freedoms, I realized this article was missing something very important. Yeah, being able to run your own schedule and go home with whomever you want can be empowering – but it’s definitely not the best thing.

Being single in your twenties is an opportunity to become independent. Not just financially or practically, but emotionally. It’s a chance to put yourself first and learn to prioritize yourself in a way that nobody else can.

Over the past four months, I have had to reteach myself how to love and take care of myself. When you have someone who is constantly picking you up, you forget how to do it yourself. You forget how to cheer yourself up after a bad day or remind yourself that you are worth it. It’s been difficult, but with lots of support (and red wine), I’m starting to become my own best friend again.

I won’t lie—there isn’t some magical junction wherein everything clicks and More Than a Feeling starts to play over the radio. It’s the little moments during the day when your chest doesn’t feel so tight, and you start to see a glimpse of someone you knew a long time ago. It’s watching Jamie Oliver cooking shows so you don’t have to eat rice every night. It’s going to the library, drinking a coffee, watching the world go by while listening to your favourite songs. And it is going out to bars with your friends, but it’s also walking yourself home at night and being okay to wake up alone.