I'm a Real-Life Penelope Featherington

I didn’t intend to be a 28-year-old woman who has never been in a romantic relationship. When I was younger, I figured that by this age I would have already been coupled up at least once. I’ve been out with a couple of people that didn’t last past two or three dates, had friends introduce me to single friends of theirs, and had an almost-relationship with a man who lived overseas (I realized early on that a long-distance boyfriend was not for me). I’ve even tried to meet someone at in-person events, but nothing came out of them except for new friends to follow on Instagram.

Being single at this age is why I relate so much to the character of Penelope Featherington in the Bridgerton Netflix series, despite having some dating experience and already having my first kiss. Like Penelope, I can’t flirt, let alone keep direct eye contact, with a man I find attractive. I can’t tell when a man is flirting with me or just being kind. I, too, am a woman on the curvier side who is still learning to appreciate her figure. I am what they would call in Penelope’s time a “spinster”— “a woman who seems unlikely to marry,” according to Merriam-Webster’s dictionary. 

While the average marrying age in 2024 is far later than during the Regency Era, I thought I would have been further ahead by now. And in my hometown in Canada, which is the capital city of my province, there is still quite the societal expectation to get married in a person’s twenties or at least attempt a long-term committed relationship. Once you hit your late twenties, in my hometown, it’s expected that one has gone through all the necessary steps it takes to get into a relationship: date around, be in a relationship for a certain number of years, possibly get engaged and be married. So far I have only gone as far as dating, and while most of the time I feel neutral about not having experienced a committed relationship, I do feel like I’m missing out on a big part of life that a lot of my peers have experienced.

There’s always a part of me that wonders if I’ll get to experience finding my person.

When I eventually tell people (usually with a lot of hesitation) that I’ve never been in a committed relationship, I get mixed reactions from the people I confide in. Some are surprised, some people look/feel sorry for me, and sometimes people’s default coping mechanism is countering it with positivity. I get comments like, “You’ll find someone someday” or “There’s plenty of fish in the sea!” 

Perhaps they’re secretly wondering how such a thing could happen in the connected world we live in today. Maybe you’re wondering, too.

When I was a child, I didn’t dream about having kids or being married when I got to this age.  My big dream for my adult self was to live independently in a big city and live my life the way I wanted to. In high school, I was a studious and goal-driven student. I was involved in many student clubs, had a good group of friends, and hobbies that kept me busy. I wasn’t entirely closed to the idea of being in a romantic relationship, but I also wasn’t focusing all my energy in seeking one out. And growing up as a child of protective Filipino immigrant parents, I got the message early on that it was important to focus on school before I started to date. High school came and went without me getting into a romantic relationship. I could have rebelled and secretly dated like many of my friends who also had protective Filipino immigrant parents, but I didn’t feel the need to, as I was enjoying spending time with my friends.

When I started university, my pool of possibly finding a romantic partner widened. There were attractive guys everywhere. However, I didn’t know how to flirt nor recognize when someone was flirting with me; I tended to think they were just being polite. I had hoped that I would meet someone organically and start dating that way. But apart from a crush on a close university friend, nothing transpired.  

After graduation, I decided it was time to date for the first time and use dating apps. My dating experience started during the second year of the COVID-19 pandemic. I met some great guys and some not-so-great guys, but none of them led to a relationship. During this period, I had my first kiss and make-out session, and touched a man’s body (this is when I realized that I like men who have nicely defined and muscular biceps along with a kind personality). I eventually found that dating apps made me feel overwhelmed and not quite myself when I was on them—which, after talking to my girlfriends, is apparently a common experience. The constant rollercoaster of trying to figure out if the other person likes you, if they’ll reply, and if they’ll ask you out for another date was excruciating.

I have a mix of friends who are single like me, in long-term relationships, married, and engaged. It has been wonderful to see their relationships progress from someone they were still deciding on to someone they can’t imagine being without. I’m always genuinely happy to see my friends thrive and find someone to love. But I’ll admit that there’s always a part of me that wonders if I’ll get to experience finding my person someday. 

If you had asked teenage me, she would say she was ashamed that she hadn’t gotten to experience romantic love by this age. However, being single for this long has allowed me to redirect the energy, attention and love finding a significant other to my friends, family, and ultimately myself. I know that if I hadn’t had this time to deepen my relationships with friends and family, my relationships with them would be entirely different.

I’ve also had a lot of time to build a deeper connection with myself, understand what qualities I want in a significant other, and come to accept if a romantic relationship is not fated for my life. I am not ashamed of my singlehood anymore, because my life is full of the other types of love - familial love, friendship love, and self-love.