I have been single for most of my life. That is not to say I have never been in love. I have had my fair share of romantic entanglements, relationships that came and went like the changing of the seasons. But at the core of it all, I have always found myself returning to the quiet joy of being single.

It is the freedom that draws me in. The ability to do what I want when I want to, without the need to factor in another person’s schedule, preferences, or whims. It is in the small joys — being able to decide at the last minute to take a trip overseas without checking in with anyone, to eat out on a whim without asking if someone else is in the mood for the same cuisine, to stay out late or stay in without explaining myself. These little freedoms, taken for granted by some, are the very things that make singlehood so fulfilling for me.

Some people find purpose in marriage, in companionship, in parenthood. And I respect that deeply. I understand that for many, raising children is a vocation, a calling that brings meaning and fulfillment. But it is a call I have never heard. What I have heard, loud and clear, is the call to be unburdened by the responsibility of another person’s life. Some may see it as selfishness, but I see it as a path I have chosen deliberately, one that brings me a sense of joy that no traditional family life ever could.

Does it get lonely? Of course, it does. But I have never believed that loneliness is reserved only for single people. I imagine even those in relationships feel lonely at times, in moments of emotional distance, in misunderstandings, in quiet struggles they cannot quite articulate to their partners. Loneliness is part of the human experience, not a consequence of being single.

And when loneliness creeps in, I know where to go. I go home, not to a partner or children of my own, but to my family. My nieces and nephews have become like my own children, their laughter filling spaces that might have otherwise been silent. Now, my young grandchildren bring me even more joy, their innocent questions and playful antics reminding me that family is not only defined by what we create but also by what we are already a part of.

Will I ever find someone and change my mind about being single? Maybe. Life is unpredictable that way. My well-meaning friends, mostly coupled and happily committed, certainly believe it is only a matter of time. They never stop playing matchmaker, sending me on blind dates and setting me up with people they believe are “just perfect” for me. And perhaps, one day, there might be someone who will be worth changing my mind for.

But until then, I am happily single. And free.