Hi, I’m Madeline, and I can’t date.

The Successful Relationships Course (which you can find more information about here) was considered a type of group therapy. As such, I’ll only be reflecting on my own personal experience and attempt to stray from personal details that would ruin the confidential nature of this group.

It’s pouring outside, I’ve just woken up from a two hour nap that was an hour and half longer than it was supposed to be, and I’m considering the very real possibility that I will die alone.

Close friends and family members know full well I often make deprecating comments about my single status. It’s a constant joke, mostly because I went on dates with maybe four different guys my entire time at BYU and never ended up with anything serious (so obviously, a failure, because my degree counts for literally nothing.) I’m in graduate school, long considered the fate of unwed women (although it shouldn’t be, and I wrote about that here), and the dying alone part is pretty on par because I’m allergic to cats and have no idea how to take care of a dog.

Which is why, at the insistence of my mother, I ended up in a dating seminar course designed to help women improve their personal relationships.

Now this class was not a three-week course that told unmarried women we were failures; rather, it was instituted to help attendees determine their attachment style and thus consider how they might consider their relationships from a different perspective. I generally found it helpful and insightful, and I’ve decided to share a few things I learned from the course, which have in turn informed my views on dating and marriage in general.

No. 1 | Just because I haven’t dated in a while does not mean there is something wrong with me.

One memorable moment from the course came in the first meeting, where a few fellow classmates were discussing the concept of a “backburner”–essentially a person kept as a sort of human safety net, a pot on the back of the metaphorical dating stove that can be warmed and served once other more attractive options no longer taste good (damn these extended metaphors–how do all the GAs do it?). Our instructor talked about the dangers of “backburners” and advocated for overt and direct decisions in dating, and feeling confident in removing these kinds of people from your list of possibilities.

After sitting quietly for a few moments, I timidly raised my hand and asked, “What if you don’t even own a stove?”

I haven’t seriously dated anyone in three years. And for a long time (and even sometimes in the present), I’ve felt like there must be something seriously awry in my life because of this. I’ve joked about “dry spells” (which in my situation looks more like a drought), but it often doesn’t seem like a joke. I know people who have met their spouses and had two children since I last kissed someone not for a video that would be posted to the internet, and so I’m usually left wondering, “Am I doing something wrong?”

And the answer to that question is a resounding, “NO!” Naturally there are things I can work to improve–I’m a huge slob, I’m still trying to figure out how to properly cook eggs, and I’m still building and struggling with my faith–but I am in no way being punished for poor choices or mistakes. Like Morgan’s post this month mentioned, single people are no more righteous or wicked than married people–we’re just people, and some of us have haven’t found our person already. And some of us have. And that’s okay.

No. 2 | I am allowed to be angry about being single. Sometimes.

After talking with the therapist that led the group, I was struggling to keep my emotions in check as I discussed my frustrations about feeling ostracized and infantilized by people I knew and the general LDS and Utah culture for failing to find a husband, or at least be comfortable dating frequently and with enthusiasm. And then she said something I thought was really important and very true.

You’re angry. And it’s okay (and it’s good) to honor that.

Being told it was okay that I was angry felt very rewarding. I believe in the power of anger–but only as a fueling station, never a destination. So if you’re single and angry about it, it’s okay. It’s normal, and so long as you don’t stay angry for very long, feel free to wallow. Just for a bit. (Lorelei Gilmore taught that wallowing was necessary, and I’m inclined to believe her.)

No. 3 | God loves me and knows what I want, but I also know what I want.

We’re told quite often that we need to trust in the Lord’s timing, and I fully believe that. In conjunction with this admonition, we’re also told to endure to the end, which I feel is often characterized as just “sticking it out”–standing in the pouring rain and just waiting for better days to come.

And while I guess that’s okay for some–people who like getting rained on, I suppose–it doesn’t seem to embody what I believe the word “endure” is meant to connote. To me, to endure is to act. It’s a moving word, one that requires mobility on the part of the participant. And as such, if I’m going to endure, I’m going to do.

That being said, I believe that knowing what kind of person I’d like to date (and eventually marry and potentially have a few kids with) is good. I know I need someone who prioritizes education.I know I need someone who is comfortable with and actively supports feminism. I know I need someone who will appreciate my quirks, not just tolerate them. I know I need someone who will encourage me to follow my passions. I know I need someone who will, as Majorie Pay Hinckley said of her husband, let me “fly.”

And knowing these things is powerful. Demanding these things is not selfish, and understanding the infinite love of my Heavenly Parents, these things are not out of reach. I can desire these elements–I can require them–and still believe that God has a plan for me. Like this recent LDS.org blog post, God works with me to co-create a life I want to live. And because they love me, they’ll find a way to give me what I desire, so long as that desire is righteous (which I believe it is).

And while I’ve got you here, I have a relatively short list of of things married people need to stop doing.

1. Please don’t use dumb excuses to post wedding pictures. Glad you made a grilled cheese together, but I really don’t want to see another damn picture of you from your wedding day with an unrelated caption masking your desire to showcase your photos. (Granted, they’re super expensive, so maybe post them all you want? I don’t know.)
2. Stop calling marriage a “club.” Us single people already know we’re not invited to lots of things, but stop making us feel like orphans in a Dickens novel peering through a window at the Christmas dinner that is marriage. (Thanks to Martin Freeman for the analogy.)
3. Recognize and celebrate important milestones in the lives of your single friends that don’t include landing a significant other. Celebrate us when we get grad school acceptance letters, when we get job offers, when we finally figure out how to fold a fitted sheet. We need validation, and in our marriage-centric culture, it can be difficult to find it in places that don’t require a romantic partner.
4. Stop telling us, “Married life is the best!!!!” Life is great, and while I desire a romantic partner, I don’t want to live out my single days (which could possibly encompass my entire life) thinking that my path is somehow less “best” than others. Acknowledge that your life is what is best for you, and that “best” looks different for everyone else. Just as it should.

Also, if you could stop naming your kids stupid things, that would also be great. But you do you, boo.

If you decide to attend the course, be sure to let Loni know this post interested you. You’ll get $5 off, and you can use that money to get pizza or something.