In Bridget Jones’s Diary, Bridget references her favorite poem, “A Christmas Poem” by Wendy Cope:
At Christmas, little children sing and merry bells jingle.
The cold winter air makes our hands and faces tingle
And happy families go to church and cheerily they mingle
And the whole business is unbelievably dreadful if you’re single.
It makes me a little uncomfortable to relate too closely to Bridget Jones. (I do relate, but that’s a level of singleness that I’m not emotionally prepared to commit to at twenty-five. Give me five more years.) However, this is the real deal. This is how the holiday season makes me feel sometimes. And I love the holidays.
I know, without any doubt in my mind, that being in a relationship does not solve problems, nor will it make me a better, more complete human being. In fact, I have spent the past many years establishing this fact with other single friends: I am a complete, wonderful person. I am not looking for someone to complete me. I am looking for someone to complement me.
I know that I do not need another human being. I have a lot of other people in my life, all of whom are marvelous and loved beyond even my comprehension. And somehow, miraculously, they love me, too, and that is the best thing.
I know that I do not like holiday or over-the-top proposals or greeting cards or romantic comedies (with few exceptions, most notably being Bridget Jones and When Harry Met Sally) or public displays of affection or Facebook statuses/wall posts about how amazing your significant other is. I think it’s weird when boys remember the anniversary of the first time they ever saw you. (Please remember and relive the moment forever and ever, but don’t remember the exact day and time. That’s weird. Save your brain space for important things.) I don’t particularly believe in fairy tales, and just the phrase “treat like a princess” makes me nauseous. As girly as this little sorority alumna is, I can’t handle mush.
I think I want a very specific, probably impossible to find kind of love. But here’s some more things I know: I am an optimist. My parents will tell you, maybe with some level of concern, that I am super Type A and a perfectionist. My best girlfriends will proudly tell you that I refuse to settle. My bosses will tell you that I am relentless in pursuit of goals. And I’ll tell y’all this: 2011 was my second least favorite year so far, so 2012 will be my year.
And I’m going to get what I want.
PS: The title comes from Bridget Jones’s Diary, too, of course: “So glad decided to be festive Home Alone Singleton like Princess Diana.”
