Learning to Own My Singleness at Work
For most of my 30s, I carried a quiet shame about being single.
While friends and colleagues were planning weddings, having babies, and coordinating school pickups, I was still swiping, still hoping, still searching. At work, I’d overhear my cubemate on the phone with her husband deciding what's for dinner. Meanwhile, I was heading home to eat a solo “girl dinner,” watch The Bachelor with friends, or check my dating apps to see if I could line up a date that week.
On Mondays, the office was abuzz with family updates—soccer games, swim lessons, picnics in the park, weekend family getaways. I stopped sharing my weekend highlights, even though they could be amazing: girls’ trips to wine country, brunch at Foreign Cinema with friends, snagging a rez at the hottest San Francisco restaurant, and spontaneous BNOs “big nights out”, leading to hilarious shenanigans. I started to dim that part of myself, assuming it wasn’t as “worthy” of airtime.
Eventually, I stopped asking others about their weekends. It felt obligatory, and honestly, I didn’t always want to hear about birthday parties and parent-teacher nights. Not because I didn’t care—but because I didn’t feel seen in return.
As I moved up professionally—more responsibility, more visibility—I couldn’t shake the feeling that my personal life wasn’t “keeping pace.” I feared being judged by younger colleagues, or by clients when I showed up to meetings sans a ring on my finger, or my kid’s photo as my iPhone home screen. So I started wearing one of my grandmother’s rings—peach coral and tiny diamonds—as a decoy. I let people assume what they wanted.
Fast-forward: I’m now married and a proud bonus mom to my husband’s teenage daughter. But looking back, I wish I’d had more compassion for that earlier version of me—the one who was killing it at work, building lifelong friendships, traveling the world (Inca Trail, New Zealand, three months working in London, safari in South Africa, Italy, Vietnam...), and doing all the things that make a life rich and meaningful.
I was my own harshest critic. I wish I’d owned my singleness more boldly—because there was nothing shameful about it. It was full of growth, adventure, and self-discovery.
If you’ve ever felt “less than” at work because you're single—especially in an environment where marriage and kids are the norm—I see you. You are not alone. And you are not behind.
You’re simply on your own timeline. And it’s beautiful.
Want to talk about what it’s like to be single in the workplace—or just need someone who gets it? Let’s chat. I offer free intro calls, no pressure—just real conversation. Click here to schedule a time with me.
XO, Lisa
