Honestly, Christmas Is The Best Time Of The Year To Be Single

Ask anyone what it’s like to be single at Christmas, and chances are they’ll picture a frazzled woman wailing on her sofa with a bottle of red wine in one hand and a fag in the other. She’ll be frizzy haired and puffy eyed, hungover but somehow also drunk, and surrounded by a graveyard of Quality Street wrappers.

This is the social script we’ve all been sold – and not just by Bridget Jones. So entrenched is the idea that being single at Christmas is a crime against humanity that there is an entire dating trend (“cuffing season”) dedicated to the idea of buddying up with someone purely to get you through the holiday season. Because God forbid you have to go it alone. Cue more sofa wails and pitying looks at family gatherings when relatives ask you about your love life.

But having done Christmas as a single woman a few times now, I can say with quite a lot of certainty that this sad little act we’ve seen play out on screen ad nauseam (see also: The Holiday) doesn’t have to be the reality. In fact, I’d go as far as to say that this is the best time of year to be single, regardless of what Christmas rom-coms tell us.

Think about it. Aside from December, is there any other month when, everywhere you look, there is something, somewhere, designed to make you feel jolly? Christmas lights lining the street. Obnoxiously large trees bringing some pizzazz to shop windows. Silly little ornaments dangling from just about anything with a hook. Whether you celebrate Christmas or not (I don’t), there is an undeniable spirit of joy dancing around us during the festive period.

This feeling is compounded, too, by our jam-packed calendars. There are work parties. Annual reunions with old friends. Complain about it all you like, but it’s objectively a lot more fun to be fluttering between various social occasions, often clad in velvet or sequins, with the knowledge that you may or may not kiss someone, as opposed to sitting at home, working out ways to avoid your in-laws.

The sheer volume of socialising at this time of year also offers you ample opportunity to have some sort of romantic liaison under the mistletoe. We just don’t get that very often anymore, particularly not in summer, when people are travelling, jumping between annual family holidays, couples’ retreats and weddings. And even if nothing happens, it’s still nice to know that it could.

The generosity that defines Christmas means many people you know will be hosting many parties – and there’s frankly no more romantic time to start dating someone. A cheering wander around a Christmas market? A couple of mulled wines consumed in a cosy pub corner? A simple nighttime walk illuminated by the city’s sparkling fairy lights? Even the supermarkets feel alluring.

There are practical benefits, too. Fewer presents to buy, fewer plans that revolve around people you don’t really know or like but have to get along with for your partner’s sake. No arguments about which of the in-laws you’ll spend the 25th with. You can decorate your home however you like. Binge on whatever TV series or film franchise you like without shame or judgement. And generally you just have a lot more time to focus on yourself.

Don’t get me wrong: there can be wobbly moments, as exemplified by some of the friends I texted while writing this piece. “Tell me your favourite things about being single at Christmas,” I wrote, optimistically. “Well, I just cried on the phone to my therapist about being alone so I’m not the best person to ask,” one replied. “I actually didn’t sleep last night because I’m worried I won’t ever have children,” said another.

I get it. At 30, most of my friends and I are on the precipice of a decade defined by babies, mortgages, and, well, grown-up stuff. There is, more than ever, a greater sense of pressure to have a certain type of lifestyle accompanied by a certain type of relationship. At Christmas, all that lingering background noise gets amped up to full volume as we’re constantly reminded of all of the domestic wholesomeness we lack. I would love to see a Christmas advert that celebrates single women – if there is one, please tell me about it urgently.

But I don’t think any of that has to get in the way of our fun, even if I do still get the occasional pang that compels me towards the sofa-wail. As one friend put it to me recently: “Do you feel alone because you’re genuinely lonely, or because you’ve been conditioned to feel that way?” Neither of us was sure. What I do know, though, is that it’s much healthier to frame being single at Christmas as a good thing. We know the alternative, and who wants to start the new year feeling like a dejected, chain-smoking iStock character in an ugly pair of flannel pyjamas?

It’s time to push back on that narrative. Because it’s all too tempting to lean into it, particularly if you’ve recently broken up with someone. But the second you do, it will define your entire December. You’ll be the sad sack moping around at every party with an Eeyore expression, moaning about your ex, how you hate everyone in your family and you’re probably going to die alone, possibly with cats. Nobody wants to be around that person, least of all you. You’ll wind up creating a self-fulfilling prophecy of misery. One that will not only prevent you from missing possible opportunities for new romance (there are few greater turn-offs than solipsism) but also mean you miss out on some valuable time you could be investing in yourself.

So, if you’re single this Christmas, please consider this your permission slip to indulge yourself a little. Spend the money you would’ve spent on a partner’s present on yourself instead. Surround yourself with friends and family who love and adore you. Flirt with strangers at every possible opportunity. And, crucially, keep those spirits high: you never know what, or who, is waiting for you at your next Christmas party.