I’m Reclaiming New Year’s Eve for Single People
We have as much right to this holiday as couples do.
I’m not going to lie. I really want to stay at home. I want to curl up on my couch in pants that have an elastic waistband. Maybe I could get drunk off wine and perform all of Les Miserables by myself. It’s happened before. Twice.
I’m not going to do that, though. I’m going to venture out into public for the first time in 20 years. It should be fine. I think.
When I was married, I ignored the holiday. My husband worked odd hours and rarely ever had New Year’s Day off so it meant a lot of ends of the year on the couch with a bottle of champagne long after he’d gone to bed.
Once I got divorced, the prospect of the night depressed me. Last year, I went to bed around 10:30. I woke up at midnight to popping firecrackers in my neighborhood and rolled back over. That was all I had in me.
To be honest, New Year’s Eve freaks me out. It’s a bit much and I tend to suffer from sensory overload. Large groups of people in tight spaces wear me out.
Still, the main reason I have stayed home for every New Year’s Eve since I’ve been single has been that I have never had a date. I have always felt it wasn’t a holiday for single people. It was for couples. All because of that stupid 30 seconds when the clock strikes midnight and people kiss each other.
I have been avoiding public spaces on one specific day of the year because of 30 seconds? When I say this out loud, it becomes incredibly obvious how ridiculous this is.
New Year’s Eve is uncomfortable for singles. It right on up there with Valentine’s Day. It’s a reminder that another year has come and gone and we still haven’t found love yet. Maybe we let go of love. Maybe it never came to visit.
Tonight, I’m going to revert back to my 15-year-old self who stayed home for her Junior Prom and every single Homecoming Dance. That awkward girl who didn’t have the confidence to show up anyway. By herself.
Just because we’re single doesn’t mean we have to be absent from an entire holiday. We have every right to treat ourselves to a night out as anyone else. This is called living life on your own accord.
Tonight, I’m putting on a dress that I bought myself over a year ago even though I never thought I would have any place to wear it. I’ve volunteered to be the designated driver because I don’t like starting a brand new year with a hangover.
I have no expectations of my night and if anyone attempts to kiss me at midnight, I may throat punch them. This is not a holiday about a kiss. It’s about making it through another year and starting another off with cautious optimism.
This is not to say that I won’t most likely head to the bathroom at 11:58 and stay there until 12:02 scrolling through pictures of tiny houses on Instagram. I mean, I haven’t totally lost my senses. I’m reasonable.