When my best friend said she had “so much” to tell me, I was thrilled.

She confessed she had gotten her first boyfriend – and I couldn’t wait to hear more.

During the next four hours, over cups of tea, pizza, then a J2O in a pub garden, she painted a picture of their love story. They had been roommates for the past year, and just a few months ago, he confessed that he had a crush on her. Not wanting to ruin their friendship, she agonised over a response. An unexpected kiss just a few days ago had changed everything.

She loved talking about him, and I, a total novice in romance, loved listening. Beautiful, gentlemanly, and sweet – he was everything she didn’t know she needed. I was so grateful that my friend, who had always been the ‘mom’ of the group, was getting the princess treatment for once.

I had been anxious that she might comment on my comparative singleness, or make things awkward, but no such issue came up.

Until, unintentionally, she said it. The phrase that I had been so afraid to hear. “Don’t worry, you’ll find someone. Love will show up when you least expect it.”

I felt suddenly queasy, and I couldn’t understand why. My friend was my biggest cheerleader. She knew her romance interested me, and she just wanted to make sure I didn’t feel left out. 

Now, I can understand why those words brought out such a strong reaction in me. Until my late teen years, I had just been a person. Now, I was a ‘single person’. My lack of a romantic partner had become a part of my identity, something I should feel bad about, or defiantly hold up as ‘single and proud.’

It was bewildering to see my friends go through the same transition. Last year, the ‘boyfriend thing’ had been purely hypothetical, the stuff of Holly Bourne novels and other people’s Instagram posts. This year, my two best friends were in romantic relationships, making me the one who was meant to ‘not worry’ about it.

The problem was, I wasn’t worried about it – at least I hadn’t been. Between family life, budding uni friendships, and my Friends obsession, my life had felt full.

Although our weekend together was beautiful, I wish she could have embraced my interest in her love life without feeling a need to comfort me. I was in a different place, one where my K-pop biases still interested me more than any real crushes – and that was okay.

So, my advice to any budding lovers awkwardly confronting single friends is: don’t tell them not to worry about it. Don’t tell them that love is just around the corner.

Instead, just thank them for being your cheerleader. Tell them that you know they’ll always watch out for you. Finally, make your single friends feel seen with one question: 

“So, what’s going on with you?”