Is Dating Still My Thing?

There was a time when dating felt like a high-stakes game of poker—exciting, risky, and full of possibilities. I played my cards, bet my heart, and, inevitably, lost a few hands. But now, sitting in a cozy café with my cappuccino as my only companion, I can’t help but wonder: is dating still my game? Or have I folded my hand for good?

Somewhere between sips of coffee and the clinking of cups, I overheard a girl ask her friend, “Why couldn’t you get a guy this year?” Her words lingered in the air like the scent of freshly brewed coffee. It wasn’t my conversation, but her question stirred something in me. Was I supposed to ask myself the same thing? The answer came swiftly and unapologetically: If I wanted to, I would have.

You see, being single in 2025 feels less like a lonely walk through the desert and more like a spa day for the soul. There’s a unique bliss in being your own person, without the weight of unread texts, unspoken expectations, or those dreaded “what are we?” conversations. I spend my money on me, my time on me, and my energy on—well, you guessed it—me.

Sure, love is magical. But so is not having to fake enthusiasm for yet another Marvel movie date night. Singlehood is like owning the remote control to your own life. You call the shots, choose the shows, and never have to settle for someone else’s reruns.

Don’t get me wrong—having a partner is wonderful. Love can be the cherry on top of life’s sundae. But right now, I’m pretty content just enjoying the ice cream. No cherry needed, thank you very much.

Maybe it’s not about whether dating is “my thing” anymore. Maybe it’s about redefining the narrative. Why should singlehood be seen as a waiting room for love? Why not a penthouse suite where you sip champagne, dance in your pajamas, and revel in the glorious mess of being your own person?

As I finished my coffee, I smiled to myself. The right person will show up at the right time—like an Uber you didn’t know you needed. Until then, I’ll keep being the leading lady in my own story.

Because if love is the destination, singlehood is the scenic route—and darling, I’m enjoying the ride.

Friendship or Fading Favors?

In a city where friendships often feel like a distant fantasy, where social lives are as fleeting as a subway train, the one thing you rely on is your long-distance friends. But let’s get real for a second—do they miss you the way you miss them? Do they care like you care?

Growing up, I always imagined that, if I didn’t find the perfect life partner, I’d at least have the perfect friends. You know, the kind who show up for everything—the late-night heart-to-hearts, the spontaneous weekend trips, the “just because” celebrations. And for a while, I thought I had it.

But as the years go by, I start to wonder: is "perfect friendship" just another myth? Why did that feeling of certainty turn into doubt? Why did the friends I thought I could count on suddenly seem so... absent?

There’s a moment when you realize your dream of living a Sex and the City life isn’t exactly panning out. Life has its own way of delivering reality checks—usually when you least expect them.

So, picture this: you’re excited to ring in the New Year with your girls—what could be better than a night of laughter and champagne? Then, one friend suggest to celebrate it with my future husband(whom I don't even know in which corner of the world he's in). Another says she has “commitments” with her boyfriend. And yet another friend—well, he dodges the bullet and makes plans with another group.

And then, there’s the inevitable: “Why do you even want to celebrate the New Year? It’s just a year, after all.”

Really? Is this what friendship looks like in adulthood? You spend all year waiting for the one time you can all get together—and when it finally happens, you’re left wondering if anyone really cares. I mean, sure, everyone’s busy with their lives, but at some point, it stops feeling like a coincidence and starts feeling like... well, a trend.

One year-end celebration? Nope.

One proper trip together? No chance.

Showing up when it counts? Apparently not.

Excuses are fine, but after a while, they start to feel more like lies. And you can’t keep lying to someone and expect them not to catch on.

Here’s the thing—friendships, like any relationship, should be worth keeping. They should make you feel seen, heard, and valued. Not just when it's convenient or easy, but when it matters. If they’re not worth the effort, maybe it’s time to let them go, or at least take a step back.

So here I am, in the middle of a New Year’s Eve that’s spent mostly with myself. But maybe that’s the point. Maybe the lesson is that, sometimes, you have to rely on your own company before you can truly appreciate the people who show up when it counts.

Happy New Year to me.

I’m Single, Not Broken: What Committed Friends Don’t Get.

I couldn't help but wonder, when did being single become something that needed to be fixed? In a world where everyone seems to be pairing off, it’s easy to feel like being single is a problem to be solved, a state of existence waiting for its expiration date. But what if it isn’t? What if, instead of being broken or incomplete, being single is simply… being?

It’s funny how friends, once they’re committed, seem to forget what it’s like on this side. They become relationship experts, doling out advice as if love comes with a step-by-step guide. But how much of that advice really comes from a place of understanding? And how much of it is just them projecting their own happily-ever-after onto your life?

Are Your Friends Really Your Monica or Rachel?

One of the most fascinating and frankly, annoying things about being single is how your committed friends make you feel. Is your bestie really your Monica or Rachel? Does your friend group *actually* have the supportive, understanding dynamic you see in *Sex and the City*?

Being single comes with its own set of pros and cons. And spoiler alert: No one hands you a manual titled "The Acts That Will Keep You Single Forever." As women, we’re often conditioned to crave that fairytale ending, to settle down with the love of our lives. But let's be real—how many of our committed friends *really* get it?

Let me paint you a picture with some of the gems I've heard along the way, which may or may not have made sense at the time.

1. The “She’s Doomed” Comment

You’re out with a group of friends, and the conversation turns to dating. Someone casually says, “Oh, her? Don’t ask. Dating just isn’t for her. She’s probably going to die alone… haha.” 

Sure, I’ve joked about dying alone—who hasn’t? But hearing it tossed around in a group of "not-so-close" people? Is that really the time to throw in a comment like that? Spoiler: It’s not.

2. The “Just Give Up” Advice

"Why don’t you just give up on dating and marry someone your parents choose? Dating clearly isn’t working for you." 

Ouch. This one stings because it usually comes from someone you thought knew you better. Isn’t this friend aware of everything you’ve been through in your dating life? If they’re truly concerned about you getting hurt again, aren’t there more thoughtful ways to show it without cutting so deep?

3. The “Are You Sure You Want to Date?” Question

"Do you really want to date someone after everything that’s happened?" 

Honestly, what I want to ask is: If I get hurt again, will you still be there to support me? The fear of rejection and betrayal lingers long after a bad relationship. Isn’t a *true* friend supposed to stand by you through those tough times? Or is that asking too much?

These are just my top three examples of things I’ve heard and, sadly, come to expect. As single women, we’ve mastered the art of brushing off the unsolicited advice and veiled concerns with a polite, “Haha, yeah!”

But to all my single ladies out there, whether you’re thriving or just surviving—you don’t need to wait for Prince Charming to make your life feel complete. What you *do* deserve is a friend who’s your Samantha Jones, someone who sets a new standard for friendship.