The Dreaded Singles Table

Wedding season is upon us… again. And for those riding solo, that invite can sure stir up some feelings.

For all the years I was single, I lived through multiple waves of weddings. First, the early-20s batch — college sweethearts tying the knot in hometowns, some with more adults than “kids”. Then the late-20s surge: formal affairs with signature cocktails and all the frills. Then came a lull, and finally, the late-30s bloom, where the couple knew what they wanted and personal flair was on full display.

At first, the singles table wasn’t so bad. In your 20s, it’s full of possibilities. Everyone’s unattached, a little tipsy, and ready to flirt over passed hors d'oeuvres and an open bar. You might even click with someone and spend the weekend wrapped in a mini rom-com. Admittedly, I did partake in a few of those. I mean, why not?

But then something shifts. As more friends pair off, even if they aren’t married, they start getting plus ones. Suddenly, you’re the only one not coupled up. And that singles table? It starts to feel less like a fun little mixer full of hope and more like the social penalty box, and positioned in the way back corner.

I longed to bring a plus one. Though back then, unless you were in a serious relationship, you didn’t get one. Even as a bridesmaid, I wasn’t about to show up with a random guy just to avoid sitting solo, despite my very real dream of falling in love over champers and wedding cake. 

The truth is, the singles table was usually fine. If I knew enough guests, I’d catch up with cousins, rock the dance floor with friends, bounce between conversations. But the worst moment? When the slow songs hit. That’s when the air changed. I'd find myself suddenly in need of a drink… or a trip to the ladies room. Occasionally, I’d get dragged into a slow dance by my married friends, forming a third-wheel group hug sway. Good times.

Even at big family events (bar and bat mitzvahs, weddings, etc.), the dynamic was similar. One slow song, and I was back in hiding. When my dad was alive, I’d often dance with him or with him and my mom (the group hug sway). After he passed, I’d quietly slip out of the party room.

So, if you're headed to a wedding this season and you see your name listed at "that" table, hear me out: it doesn’t have to suck. I've got a few mindset shifts and practical tips that would’ve helped me all those years ago, and I’ll be sharing them on socials.

But first, I’d love to hear from you.

XO,

Lisa