Single. Those dreaded two syllables describing one solitary person. That harbinger of images of eternal loneliness, ice cream and red wine binges, a multitude of jilted tears and terrible Hollywood plot lines.
In today's society, there's an incessant drip-feed of the idea that singletons must be defective, unable to form bonds and incapable of maintaining relationships. We are either asking too much or - worse - demanding too little. Singletons are not pretty enough, not interesting enough, or perhaps we have the blackened soul of a serial killer …
We couldn't possibly master the sacred art of a sustaining a long-term relationship.
"What do we chronic singles know about being in a relationship?" a friend recently asked me, as I dealt with the aftermath of yet another argument in happy-coupledom (why are singletons always the go-to people for relationship advice?).
It used to be that men were from Mars and women from Venus: now it's those without a partner who are the alien species. But, like yesterday's overpriced roses, I don't buy it.