Getting Around Town With Jamie Shupak: A Case for Being Single

Jamie Shupak is the Emmy-nominated traffic reporter for NY1, the Big Apple cable network that’s the end-all and be-all on all things Gotham for New Yorkers. She’s also a beautiful, single woman navigating New York’s treacherous dating scene after the painful breakup of a 10-year relationship. In her weekly column she’ll share her war stories and offer her advice and admonitions.

Sometimes being single gets a bad rap. Such was the case at my friend’s bridal shower a few weeks ago. At a table on the Upper East Side, I sat with a bunch of friends to my left and some of the bride’s older aunts, cousins, and family friends to my right. In typical Jewish mother fashion, the first two questions out of their bright red-lipsticked mouths were “So what do you do for a living?” and “Are you married?” Luckily my job had them oohing and aahing for a few minutes, but only for so long. Then the real interrogation began.

“You’re single?” one asked. She turned to the woman next to her: “She’s single, did you hear that?” “But she’s such a cute, nice girl—how could that be?” A third joined in: “Ask her if she just got out of a relationship.” The leader of the pack turned back to me and relayed her friend’s question, even though, at barely two feet across the table from them, I'd heard every word.

“No, I’ve been single about a year now.” She looked at her friends and then back to me as if I told her my dog had just died. She put her hand on my shoulder and leaned in, nodding at me with such intensity that you'd have thought her head movements alone would be all the reassurance anyone could possibly need. “Don’t worry, honey, you’ll meet someone.”

***

I’m 29 years old and I live alone. I don’t wait up for anyone and I don’t wake up for anyone. I watch what I want on TV, I order what I want for dinner, and I am the master of my own thermostat. Some nights I am out until 3 in the morning and most others, that’s when I’m waking up for work. And you know what the best part is? I don’t have to explain it one way or the other to anybody. I hate to come off like a cold-hearted snake a la Paula Abdul, but I really don’t mind being single; in fact, I really kind of dig it.

Disclaimer: Dear Mom, one day I will meet someone, fall in love, get married, and have lots and lots of babies; in that order, I promise.

For now though, it’s time to have my fun. The same goes for you, single guy. It’s time to shake the notion that being single means something is wrong with you, or that for some reason you’re not okay. To me, the idea that you need someone else to make you happy is ludicrous. What you need, in my opinion, is to make you happy with you. Do that first. If you’re not okay with where you are career-wise, where you live, how much money you have in the bank, all those kinds of things—how can you expect someone else to be?

***

I consider myself lucky that one of my close friend’s engagement parties was just a week after my ex and I broke up. I hadn’t even found my own apartment yet and was still sleeping in my best friend’s bed with her. My eyes told the story of a hurt and lost girl. I wasn’t eating or sleeping much, and there was no way I was ready to consume alcohol, but I had to go to this party. I love my friend, I love her fiancé, and I wanted to show my love for their relationship—a loving, respectful relationship, like the one I hope to have some day.

Getting dressed that night was maybe the hardest thing I have ever done, perhaps harder even than leaving my old apartment, because, on that day, my whole family was there to be my safety net. This night—for the first time in 10 years—I was going to have to fend for myself.

Though I was partially caught in the post-breakup haze where nothing felt real, part of me remained conscious of what was happening and dreaded what would come next. All my friends told me it was too soon, that I could stay home, that they’d understand, but I didn’t want to let my friend down. I was going to have to power through months (years?) of single life, and this dinner dance was just the beginning.

***

I used to take for granted having someone with me at every party—to make sure my drink was full, to wait for me outside the bathroom, to dance with me during the slow songs. I know that being single can sometimes make you feel not just alone at the party but alone in the world. You feel like everyone has someone, and everywhere you look couples are gazing into each other’s eyes with The Bodyguard soundtrack playing in the background. Not only is this all conjured up in your head, but the reality of being single is that it’s a time to take care of you.

My modus operandi all year has been: it’s me time. I’m never going to have this time again in my life—to worry about me and no one else. It may sound selfish, but I didn’t look out for myself for a long time. Even if that’s not the case for you, single guy, it’s still a great time to play along with my philosophy. You can spend as much time at work, at the gym, or in your art studio, sculpting the best possible version of yourself. An independent, well taken care of man is an attractive man. I don’t just mean physically (though that’s always nice, too). If you’re handling your business, if you keep up on current events, if you have hobbies and interests, and actually quench those thirsts—like play in an intramural sports league, or take a writing class, or travel abroad—a woman will notice.

It’s also easier to focus on your career and dreams when you’re single. Sure, it’s comforting and helpful to have a partner to support your climb up the corporate ladder, but think about it this way too: you can take whatever job you want, stay at the office as late as you need, and spend as much time working on outside projects and networking without worrying about it affecting someone else’s schedule or feelings. Take advantage of the free time, because before you know it some lucky woman is going to scoop you up, have you booked every weekend until 2012, and you might be wishing you spent more of your single time on things that you actually like to do.

***

It’s wild to think that a year ago I was on the other side, with a ring on my finger, planning where we would live, vacation, and what we would name our kids. That girl never thought she’d be single again; this girl couldn’t be happier to be single.

You know that night of my friend’s engagement party, my first night out as a single woman, I cried. I cried at the end of the party and I cried when I got back to my best friend’s apartment. At the time, it felt wretched to be alone, but I’m glad I went because once I got through that I knew I could get through anything. So follow my lead, single guy, and look for the goodness in the single life. It isn’t so bad being one of the last men standing.

Coming soon: Jamie translates: what she said versus what she meant.