
In my solitary days of unwanted singledom, I received all sorts of unsolicited advice about how to unsingle myself. You know the sort:
‘You need to get out more.’
‘Maybe you should be less picky.’
‘Have you considered online dating?’
Some of that advice was pretty good, actually. Take the online dating, for instance. That’s how I met my now-husband. Thanks, anonymous person who suggested that. *Thumbs up*
The flow of advice that came my way was virtually non-stop. Most of it centred on what I was doing wrong and how I should do more—or less, in some cases—to find that perfect partner. Thanks, my dude. That’s not confusing at all.
There was also advice on how to be the perfect partner. This typically focused on how I needed to change some element of myself. Because, clearly, I would be coupled by now if I was already marriage material.
But the absolute worst advice was any advice from coupled or married people, like they had the monopoly on ‘Happily Ever Afters.’ It drove me nuts. Just because you now have a boyfriend, I silently yelled at them, doesn’t mean you’re an expert on my love life!
Christians in particular seemed to hand out spiritual-sounding slogans like they were hotdogs at a Bunnings barbecue. I am sure they meant well. I am sure they were trying to be encouraging. But it came off hollow somehow, brimming with false hope:
‘God has the perfect partner for you.’
‘Do you have the gift of singleness?’
‘Make Jesus your boyfriend.’
Even though I hoped these nuggets of fool’s gold were real, I knew at the time they were quite possibly going to turn out to be false. After all, who can claim to know the mind of God?
The ‘gift of singleness’ became another pet peeve for me. And it wasn’t just the notion of my frustrated and unwanted singledom being sold as a gift and I should therefore be grateful. (Ugh.) It was the assumption that all single people automatically have this gift; the ‘normal’ trajectory is marriage, and if you are an outlier, then you must have this mysterious and spiritual gift.
Nothing about frustrated singledom felt particularly spiritual for me.
The ‘Jesus is your boyfriend’ mantra used to irritate me too, and not just because it reduces our King and Saviour to a heartthrob. It was usually couched in ‘means to an end’ terms: if you make Jesus the love of your life (means), then God will bring you a partner (end). It usurped Jesus’ place at the centre of our lives, making him a technique or formula for marriage.
I wonder how Jesus might feel about that.
It can be hard for the single person to respond graciously to unsolicited advice, especially when they know it is well intentioned. Personally, I used to smile and nod a lot. I’d resist the urge to punch them in the face. Then I’d go home, laugh or cry about it, and shake it off as best as I could. I would toss the bad advice in the trash bin of my mind. Better than punching them in the face.
What about helping your single friend or loved one? It can be hard to know what to say. My advice is stop handing out advice to single people. Especially when they haven’t asked for it. Don’t give out false hope. Love the singleton for who they are, not for the married person they might one day be. For many single people, singledom is a permanent state, not a phase. Support them in keeping Jesus at the core of their lives, regardless of what happens on the dating front.
And please don’t regale them with ‘Happy Ever After’ stories. Unless you like being punched in the face.
Have you been handed unwanted advice on finding a partner or spouse? How did you respond to that? Do you have any pet peeves? Share your story. Let’s have a countercultural conversation.
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