From the age that I could read and watch commercial TV, I’ve been consuming and idolising independent female characters. From Serena van der Woodsen to Carrie Bradshaw, my adolescence was majorly shaped by western media’s idealisation of the single, sexy and financially independent woman.
The single, sexy and financially independent woman has a designer wardrobe, equally sexy and financially independent friends (and lots of them), as well as a job in the creative industries that was somehow stress-free and paid the bills. But most notably, the single, sexy and financially independent woman that 14-year-old me couldn’t wait to be was always being chased by successful, attractive men.
Quite naturally, Sex and the City set me up for some real disappointment; New York City is stupid expensive, successful and attractive men don’t chase women, or at least they don’t chase me, and a stress-free, well-paying job in the creative industries simply doesn’t exist.
Instead, being a single young woman today is a little less idyllic and is instead defined by doubt and uncertainty. To me, being a single young woman today involves wondering when, or if, you’ll ever have enough money to move out of home by yourself.
It’s checking behind the curtains and under the bed every time you check into an Airbnb, all while mentally preparing yourself to take on a crazy serial killer with nothing but your phone and the closest sharp object at hand.
It’s sending your location to your friends while sitting alone in the back of an Uber, silently wishing you’d never gone out as you listen to 35 minutes of non-stop piano renditions of pop songs.
It’s making pointless small talk to people on Tinder and wondering whether you’ll ever start a relationship organically or if you even want one anyway.
It’s feeling guilty about needing a man’s help with just about anything car-related but refusing to ask for said help (I mean heaven forbid) because you’ve pledged allegiance to the feminist cause but happen to strongly dislike anything involving mechanics.
Okay, the last one was mostly a joke, but what I’m trying to get at is the fact that while transitioning to adulthood was always going to be hard, this transition for women, in particular, has been drastically downplayed and glazed over by society and the film industry.
For example, nobody tells you that rather than buying cute shoes and having bottomless brunches with your besties, your money will mostly go towards insurance, fuel and other boring things.
Similarly, nobody tells you that at around 21, everyone around you will start getting engaged, building their ‘forever homes’ and having babies -despite your belief that millennials had all made a silent pact to wait until their 30s for real adulting- while you watch marble racing videos on YouTube and question your existence.
But despite all of this, being a single young woman as privileged and supported as I am today also means doing things on your own terms in your own time. For young women as fortunate as myself, it means dreaming of the life you want with no limitations and chasing it -okay, maybe insufficient funds to move into a penthouse apartment in New York City is one limitation. It means you don’t have to compromise on what takeaway you want to eat, what show you want to watch on Netflix and, most importantly, what songs you want to play in the car.
Being a single young woman today offers the priceless freedom to learn the deeper parts of yourself, which values you live by and what kind of people you want to surround yourself with. It also offers the priceless freedom to eat tomato and onion flavoured tuna any day of the week without fear of assaulting someone’s nostrils. The same goes for boiled eggs. And so, even with all the doubt and uncertainty, I wouldn’t have this period of time in my life any other way.
