I know this sounds like I’m a Miss Havisham-style bitter woman, but singlehood isn’t a binary concept. It isn’t feeling independent and empowered at all times, and it isn’t wallowing in your loneliness every night of the week. Like most things, it’s a mixed bag.

For the most part, I feel content with my life, but there are days – like Valentine’s Day – when my lack of a long-term romantic relationship makes me panic about my future and gets me down. It likely doesn’t help that I’m the only single friend in my friendship group, which comes with its own complicated feelings. Being the ‘single friend’ can make me feel left out and left behind. I feel as though I often have to present this ‘empowered’ version of singlehood, especially now that I’m 30, in the hope that people won’t pity me or give me unsolicited advice about how to meet a partner.

It doesn’t always feel liberating or empowering. Singlehood is nuanced, and the lack of romantic love in my life does, at times, make me feel lonely, sad and in need of a big ugly cry. It isn’t just the lack of romance, though; it’s also feeling under-appreciated at a time when a lot of people seem to have their ‘person’ to love and appreciate publicly. It’s why I’m glad things like Galentine’s Day seem to have gained popularity in the last few years (thank you, Amy Poehler), to ensure that platonic love and friendships have the space to be celebrated too.

So, this Valentine’s Day, instead of putting on a brave face while fielding comments like ‘It’s just another day’ (I know) or ‘It’s stupid to let it affect you’ (I’m well aware, thank you), I’m going to allow myself to wallow in my feelings. I’m giving myself permission to be the sad single woman for a day while watching my favourite romcom on the sofa, because feelings need to be felt.

“Singlehood is empowering, but I’m still allowed to be sad on Valentine’s Day”