What if singledom is the destination?
The destination might also be Sicily
Hi there,
Last week we inadvertently co-opted Mother’s Day to spark a conversation about ADHD (moms take Adderall too!). A lot of you had thoughts on the topic, which made us happy; our proudest moments are when we start conversations and help people make sense of their health and wellness… though simply offering Samm’s tips for writing distraction-free is cool too!
This week’s topic is also one that inspires a lotttta passionate discourse: the state of singleness. Being single is often treated like a temporary phase rather than the destination itself, but when 25% of US 40 year olds have never been married, it seems like more people are embracing a romantically unattached life as the destination. This week’s contributor, friend from across the pond Ismene Ormonde, explores her journey to embracing a state of singleness (and it includes a stop in Sicily… not too shabby).
So without further ado, to Sicily!
Jocelyn, more into sports than romcoms (where are the sports romcoms?)
Ismene Ormonde is a culture writer and essayist based in London, with words in The Guardian, Observer, and Byline, amongst others. She writes about the pursuit of pleasure on her Substack.
One thing that makes Ismene feel well: Lying down in the sun until I'm sweating and then jumping into cold water always makes me feel alive and happy and healthy!!
The limitless pleasure of being single
Back in winter, I was telling some guy about my mum’s life as a single woman. She lives on an island off the coast of Sicily, her days structured around morning swims, afternoon writing sessions in cafés, and evening aperitivi with her friends. “The world makes you feel like the worst thing you can be as a woman is older and single,” I said, “But she isn’t alone. She’s living this beautiful life.”
That was when he interrupted me, putting his hand on mine. “That’s so sad,” he said, “People aren’t meant to be single.”
I had to laugh. “Do you really believe that?”
It’s true that the world doesn’t feel set up for single women to have a good time. Last week, someone asked me, “Anything happening in your love life?” in the kind of voice you’d normally reserve for funerals. A married man told one of my friends she’d missed the “last chopper out of ‘Nam” because she hadn’t found a boyfriend yet. In these conditions, I’m unsurprised that ‘90s dating handbooks like The Rules are having a comeback on TikTok. (Rules include: “Don’t Talk Too Much” and “Don’t Tell Him What To Do.” FEELING GREAT ABOUT THE STATE OF WOMANHOOD RIGHT NOW!!!!!)
But it’s not the ‘90s anymore. Birth and marriage rates are falling globally. In a 2019 study comparing unmarried and married people, researchers found that single women were the healthiest and happiest group. Stevie Nicks, who has never married, says that being single has nothing to do with being alone: “I feel sparkly and excited… I'll always be surrounded by people.” Last summer in London, the dating app Bumble yelled down at the city from a billboard: “A VOW OF CELIBACY IS NOT THE ANSWER.” The city yelled back right back: a few days later, it was torn down. I guess women wanted to figure out “the answer” themselves.
Visiting my mum this spring, I found myself alone on the beach, peeling an orange and watching the sun cast glitter over the waves. A feeling came over me: something new, sparkling and shimmering. I let a slice of orange burst in my mouth and thought, What is this?
It was only later, talking to my mum, that she pointed out something had changed: I wasn’t missing a lover, or wondering when they’d text me back, or arguing with an ex in my head. I didn’t need to explain myself, or package my thoughts up to be understood, or try to fit my plans and dreams alongside someone else’s. There was nothing to anchor me: no crushes, no situationships, no apps. A chronically online friend of mine calls it “rawdogging being single” (I prefer to think of it as being an adventuress).
Call it what you want. I felt limitless.
After a break-up, people talk to you like you’re in a waiting room. They have very strong opinions about the right way to be single: how to date, when to date, how to be alone. Emotionally, socially, and economically, a romantic relationship is a structuring device. It has its genres and its endings: the marriage plot, the romcom, the lovers’ tragedy. But being single has no narrative, no rules. It’s easy to feel adrift. In Marlowe Granados’ novel Happy Hour, the narrator describes the experience of walking into a room as a single woman: “People look at you like you’re some kind of rogue, capable of doing anything. Dangerous, unpredictable, and suspicious.” So what if people aren’t meant to be single? Who wants to be told what you’re meant to do?
I’ve been thinking a lot about a Pierre Boncompain painting I once saw: a girl on a beach, looking out at the sea. Boncompain only ever paints women enjoying their alone time. They arrange fruit on a plate, or lie dreaming in gardens, or stretch naked on their beds in yellow rectangles of sunlight. Their stillness isn’t boredom. But it isn’t quite contentment either. Is the girl in the frame about to dive into the sea, go home, write a novel, fall asleep, masturbate, take a lover, call a friend? She could do any of those things. Her body brims with the energy of potential.
On the beach back in Sicily, it occurred to me that when I find romantic love again, I will miss this feeling of endless possibility. People are often afraid of being single, living out love stories that don’t fit anymore. We crave definition and certainty: we press ourselves into small spaces and wonder why we bruise so easily. There are worse things than being uncertain and undefinable. So when romance comes back to me, I want to greet it with an open heart and a careful mind. Until then—who knows? The girl in a Boncompain is always looking dreamily into the distance.
She’s figuring out her next move.
FIND ISMENE ON
After working on Ismene’s essay, our team got to thinking: where are the cultural representations of singledom that represent it as the destination rather than a temporary state of striving? After a week-long brainstorm, we came up with a few examples that, perhaps unsurprisingly, happen to be some of our teams’ favorite shows:
Broad City, with its depiction of dating as mainly a distraction from friend hangs
Somebody Somewhere, with its (“teeny martini”-loving) friendship as the core plotline (also, our team ♥️ Bridget Everett, and if you’re unfamiliar with her we beseech you to give this show a shot. A lot of people agree.)
And Dying for Sex is a bold new entrant into the category, though we don’t love the idea that it takes staring down death to consider singledom worthwhile…
But three shows obviously isn’t enough; we wanted MORE! So we took it to our group chats. No luck there. Reddit was disappointingly limited in its suggestions, too (“Swallow, but it's a horror/ psychological thriller and a bit hard to watch”... cool). So we took it to ChatGPT for the bit and it came through with the unhinged suggestions, i.e. “TÁR—A woman’s downfall—orchestrated, operatic, and deeply solitary. It ends with cosplay and chaos” uhhhhh sure…
So we’re petitioning our entertainment brethren here in LA to rethink the romcom—to make love stories that don’t end in anyone “settling down” or “finding the one.” For the writers reading this: seems like there’s a lot of opportunity in this soon-to-be explosive genre. In the meantim💅🏽e, if anyone has any suggestions for books, movies, or TV in this vein, let us know and we’ll compile a list as a Prism Community Service.
Muy bien 💅🏽
Thanks for reading! Hope the rest of your Sunday is more Sicilian beach than shitty first date.