How to be happy for a friend’s romantic success when you’re single

“There was a moment recently when one of my housemates kissed his partner on the shoulder during a group conversation, and I felt a pang of envy and longing for such a tender interaction.”

On New Year’s Eve, just before midnight, Maria*, my housemate, close friend and wing woman, and I were both on a mission to find a sexy single person to snog. Mine happened to be the guy standing next to me (convenient) as the clock ticked over. He was cute and tall and I think he may have been wearing a cap with a Bunning’s logo on top of his curly mop of hair (big Brunswick energy).

After making out with him, I stumbled off to find Maria, ready to hit the dancefloor. She was chatting up a strikingly handsome man, who revealed he was from Argentina. Putting my three years of university Spanish to good use, I asked him – in Spanish – to kiss Maria. My Spanish may have been drunken and shaky, but he understood the assignment.

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For Maria, what began as a New Year’s kiss soon developed into full-blown dating; a mutual love of the outdoors led to hikes and camping trips. Maria, who is usually grounded, pragmatic and emotionally contained (in other words, the opposite of me), became gushy and coy when speaking about him. Of course, I’m thrilled for her – she deserves nothing less, and it’s so lovely to see this side of her and how excited this person makes her. At the risk of sounding like a total cliché, she lights up when she speaks about him. 

But an uglier part of me feels resentful and envious. Having been single for several years, I’ve gone on many subpar dates and kissed many a proverbial frog and I can’t help but feel that it’s somewhat unfair that Maria struck gold so early on in her dating journey. Having been on a kind of dating hiatus since ending a long-term relationship in 2021, she hasn’t experienced the potential horror of dating apps.

She’s also never had to endure a Hinge date with someone who suggested that instead of going for a drink, you meet them at their music studio, where they play you their band on SoundCloud and say things like “Can’t you just hear this being played on Triple J?”, “I just know I’ll be rich and famous one day” and “I’m never dating an Aries again”. I’ve also had dates deliver other gems, like “Smash or pass?” (and they say romance is dead) and “I like that you’re not one of those angry feminists” (this, ironically, made me very angry).

In confiding my discomfort to other friends, I found a lot of them attempted to comfort me by saying things like “They’re just in the honeymoon phase”, “It may not last” and “Not everyone in a relationship is happy”. But that’s not the point. I want Maria’s feelings for this person to last and progress. As I said, she deserves nothing less. And I very much want my coupled friends to feel happy and fulfilled in their relationships. 

I just wish I was experiencing this, too. Fortunately, I recently read Conversations on Love by Natasha Lunn, which I highly recommend. Some of the key takeaways for me are that finding love involves a certain amount of luck and timing, there are other sources of love outside of romance, and you have to accept that you may not find a romantic partner and that your life can still be beautiful and filled with love.

I have found that focusing on these lessons helps me feel genuinely happy for Maria, and reminds me that there is still ample love in my life, even if it is not of the romantic variety right now. There is love when my manager at work tells me they value me. There is love when my mum calls me on the phone to check-in.

There is love when Millie, my greyhound, rushes to greet me when I come home from work. There is love when my friend Megan messages me to say we should celebrate Valentine’s Day together. There is love when my sister sends me a Spotify link to the High School Musical 3 soundtrack and says “This still slaps” (she’s right, by the way).

Why should I resent Maria for having romance when, if I look around, I can see that I have an abundance of love in my life? It may not be romantic, and it may not mean I have someone to spoon with on lazy weekend mornings. It may mean I still get tempted to message people I’ve previously dated, people I know can’t meet my needs, in a misguided attempt to get something close to romantic love. 

Of course, I would like to have a person to spoon. But I also know that all I (and you, if you’re single) can do is acknowledge this feeling, accept that I can’t control when, how or even if I will meet someone, and remain hopeful. This is not always easy. There are times when I cry and think ‘Why not me?’. There are times when I feel physically lonely and crave affection.

There was a moment recently when one of my housemates kissed his partner on the shoulder during a group conversation, and I felt a pang of envy and longing for such a tender interaction. And yes, there are times when I’m still envious of Maria. But I’m learning to acknowledge the feeling, and then redirect my focus to all the love I already have. I choose to stay hopeful, and feeling grateful for all the love you already have is a great place to start.

This article was originally published on January 25, 2023.

*Name has been changed for privacy.

For advice on how to make the most out of being single, try this.