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Questions and Stories about Living On Your Own

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Listed below is the compilation of the questions and stories that singles have shared on  Some of these essays were submitted as a response to our national writing contest for singles. Topics of these blog posts by singles range from dating, to money, to relationships, to health, and many more in between.

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Read Living On Your Own Questions and Stories

Now Browsing: I Need a Change

As I review my day of Halloween, I see how irritable I was. I was full of self-pity. I had moved to a different town in a different state. I am single and living in an apartment by myself thinking about how I need to get a new job. While in my apartment alone for only a few minutes, I allowed myself to drift into morbid reflection. Seems ludicrous considering the fact that I was always wishing for alone time. I allowed myself to get sad. I thought of the seemingly trite coping skills I h

Grace. It's something that's given to us on a daily basis, yet often times we take it for granted. There is a bible verse that says, "For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God." Eph. 2:8
Well, some weeks ago I was reminded of how much we receive Gods gift of grace. Imagine my surprise when I found out on an ordinary Tuesday morning (around 6 or 7 a.m. to be exact) that I would undergo emergency open heart surgery. Just t

At the age of 11 I sat before a mirror for two hours repeatedly saying the word “ugly” until I knew I convinced myself I was.
Now being a freshman in high school you would think I would forget about such an insignificant act, but I cant. Its quite the opposite in fact. If a persons eyes drift over my childish face for a second too long, I wish to cry. I can not present a project with confidence or meet someone new without my face steadily metamorphosizing into a glowing red. I atte

It happened near the nonfiction stacks on the library’s second floor. I noticed her dawdling in my direction, casual, peeking through the aisles for an answer she didn’t seem too intent on finding. Her backpack straps stretched her blue blouse firm under the weight of what I imagined were books. I took her for a college student, likely a few years my junior. Our eyes met and she smiled, holding her gaze longer than the token greeting. She was cute. But I didn’t think much of it.


There are days (moments even) where I sit and zone out. The world around me becomes a swirling circus of noise. Chaotic? No, just the blurring of the ongoing life around me. From the swirls, everyone and everything becomes quiet. The bobbing thoughts in my brain take hold and create visions of where I want to be. Where do I want to be? I want to be in the solace of my studio theatre. The quietness of the orange walls in my office. The squeaking of the door alarming of a new arrival. T

Whenever you see someone for the first time, you notice their appearance. Whenever you see them often, you notice that they have scars and when you get to know them you feel their scars. Everyone has a story and they have the scars to prove it. Scars are like a book lying on the surface of a human, ready to be summarized and shown off to the world. The scars I have are invisible, They aren't on display, people don't see what my past did to me and this is where my story begins.

One Saturday, I celebrated a festival with my best friend. Since we had not seen each other for months, she invited me to spend the night with her. I was so excited! I sent a text message to my Mom to let them know that I was not coming back home that day, that I would sleep over at my best friend’s house.
Sadly, it was not okay for my father. He insisted that I spent the night at my brother’s house instead. Of course I disagreed with his idea.
But Dad did not consent. He said it w

"Who am I"? I never knew that , neither was I ever interested in knowing so . Unless and until that noon passed by my life .

The heat of that scorching noon is still piercing my body . All the memories are flashing across my eyes .

I used to sell handicraft works for my family's livelihood . The earning was feeble . As a result we were dwelling in a kind of slum area . The street fights and their terror was a regular routine . We were all so well

This is a true story of my life and the trials and tribulations
I went through to become the person I am today. The story will
also encompass my diabetes, depression, positive thinking, and
the emotional roller coaster I was on for 27 years. The narrative
will outline the steps I have taken to recreate the new person
I am today

I posted my story on One Billion Rising’s web page two weeks ago. To summarize what I said, “My name is Sarah. I am a single mom and I am one in three women who has been raped and abused. I got out of a relationship with a man who yelled at our daughter and hit walls. I have to testify against him at his trial because he waved a knife at me. Our daughter is in temporary foster care because I had severe depression and I was suicidal. You know what? He was not the only man I met like that.”

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