You know that scene from The Holiday when Amanda (Cameron Diaz) decides she’s going on a solo vacation? As she’s frantically Google searching travel spots, she immediately rules out somewhere tropical. She literally says to herself: “Kayak for one? No, thank you.”
Sorry not sorry. It’s no secret that it’s one of my favorite movies.
Well, I had a moment just like that recently. Except I wasn’t saying “no, thank you.” Quite the opposite. And, oddly enough, I had this moment during a wedding weekend.
I’ve been to countless weddings, and I’ve flown solo for most of them. If you’ve attended them without a plus one as many times as I have, you know that weddings are probably the most interesting occasions to be single.
This one was in a gorgeous location in Northern California, on a property where we all got to stay in cabins on site and enjoy plenty of outdoor activities. So, a few of us decided to go kayaking on the river. And by a few of us, I mean me and two of my favorite couples.
You know you’ve officially hit pro single girl status when you can fifth wheel it like a champ. Or seventh wheel it. Or ninth. Oh heck, I’ve even eleventh wheeled it before.
Anyway…
Each couple picked up a kayak for two. Then it was my turn. As I approached the nice gentleman who was checking them out to us, he asked me “for one or two?”
“Just me,” I said.
He went into the shed and pulled out a kayak for me. A kayak with just one seat.
As we all cruised down the river, I realized there was nothing different about my kayak, except it had just one seat instead of two. But that’s because it was made for one person. There was no empty seat. No space to fill. No place left painfully open for someone who just wasn’t there yet.
And it got me thinking about how this all represents singleness. I’m in a one-seat kayak season. But my kayak still floats just as well as a two-seater.
There’s nothing missing. There’s no void. It’s not incomplete because it’s designed for just me.
And even though I want to share my kayak with someone someday, there’s nothing inadequate about the one I’m in right now.
Much like the season of singleness, a one-seater kayak is not lacking anything. It just holds one instead of two. Because it’s designed that way.
My single girl life is perfectly full. And it floats perfectly well. Because it’s meant to hold just me.
And one day when I have a partner, I’ll need a two-seater. But that kayak won’t be better than the one I have now. It’ll just be different. Because it’ll be made for two.
So, if you’re also in a single-seat kayak season, but longing for your two-seater, just know this, darling…
Both are full.
Both are right.
And both can be a lot of fun, if you choose to enjoy the ride.
I won’t lie, I’m looking forward to my two-seater. I’m excited for the day when I have someone really special to row with.
But, for now, I’m gonna proudly get in that single-seater. And I’m gonna wear it out on the river of life.
