Turning 29 Without a Plus One
what I thought being single at 29 would feel like (and what it actually does)
I used to think at 29 I’d be living with a significant other, flaunting an engagement ring and using every last dime in my (nearly non-existent) savings account to plan my dream wedding. Most of my 20s this quiet dread followed me around as I continued to approach 30 single. I remember on my 20th birthday I locked myself in my bathroom and hid in the tub for a quick cry because the guy I liked wasn’t coming over (Alexa, play The Moment I Knew by Taylor Swift). If only 20-year-old Alissa could see me now. I wonder if she’d be mortified or proud.
Today is my 29th birthday and being single at this age doesn’t feel sad or depressing, it feels liberating. I feel a level of freedom I haven’t before and I think it’s because I’m finally content. I’m not chasing the wrong person or sitting around waiting for someone to show up and complete my life. I feel complete on my own and that’s something I’m really proud of.
I spend more quality time with my friends than I ever could’ve imagined at 20. The kind of time that isn’t rushed or squeezed between dinner plans with someone I’m trying to impress. We go on trips, swap dating horror stories over wine and send unhinged voice memos about our mental breakdowns. It’s the kind of intimacy that lasts longer than any relationship I tried to force in my early twenties.
It’s wild how much your standards shift once you actually like yourself. I used to mistake anxiety for butterflies. I used to shrink myself so someone else would feel bigger. Now I know peace isn’t boring, consistency isn’t clingy, and communication isn’t too much to ask for. The clearer I’ve gotten on who I am, the easier it’s become to walk away from anyone who doesn’t treat me accordingly.
For a long time, I treated 30 like some kind of deadline. Like if I didn’t hit certain milestones by then—marriage, a mortgage, maybe a soft launch of my baby bump—I had failed. I don’t know where that pressure came from exactly. Probably a mix of wedding-heavy Instagram feeds, holiday table questions from well-meaning relatives, and some internalized fantasy I built when I was too young to know better.
But here’s the thing: nothing actually happens at 30. There’s no buzzer. No pop quiz. No relationship fairy swooping in to penalize you for being behind.
What’s shifted is the way I see time. I don’t feel behind anymore—I feel like I’m building. Slowly, intentionally, and in a way that actually fits me. I’m not checking boxes to keep up with everyone else. There’s a quiet power in realizing you’re not on a clock. That you can take your time. That you don’t have to rush just to say you arrived.
I used to think being single at this age meant something was missing. That I was waiting for someone or something to show up and start the next chapter. But lately, I don’t feel behind. The life I’m living now doesn’t feel like a warm-up. It’s not a waiting room for some “real” version that starts when I meet someone. Don’t get me wrong, I still want to find love. But I want it on the terms I’ve worked hard to figure out. I want it to add to the life I already love, not fix one I’m pretending to be satisfied with.
So here’s to 29. Not the year I got engaged or settled down. Just the year I felt really solid in my own skin. And for now, that’s more than enough.
PS: My debut novel, Call It What You Want, is available to order here. I appreciate your time and support more than you know! ILYSM <3
Now that I'm in my mid-30s, I wonder why I put so much pressure on 30. It's still so young! I know that it's trite to say (or hear), but really it's such an imaginary deadline that our society as created. Being past it makes me feel so much less pressure for 40 too, because I know it's all just pretend. We go on living, feeling like we always did, no matter what age we are.