When you’re single, the pressure to “get out there” and find a date for a New Year’s Eve bash is relentless, even when you prefer a quiet night at home.
It’s over: another holiday season I started early this year and enjoyed thoroughly.
I flew to Denver to visit my still spry 88-year-old dad on the first weekend of the month. I hosted SingularCity’s “Holiday Hoot in the Hood” on the second weekend and went to a winter solstice party the weekend after that. I then enjoyed a long Christmas holiday that included a huge Dutch-Indonesian family feast and an overnight visit from a dear friend and former intern that I hadn’t seen in years.
It was great, but enough. I had no desire to attend any “biggest and best ever” New Year’s Eve parties. That’s nothing new. I’ve been a New Year’s Eve Grinch for decades. There’s just something about New Year’s Eve parties that feels like forced fun. Sure, just about any holiday celebration, or any party for that matter, can be criticized as people trying too hard to have a good time. But there’s something about New Year’s Eve parties that pushes the limits.
I once dated a guy who couldn’t accept the fact that I preferred to spend New Year’s Eve in quiet solitude. He showed up at my house unexpected, knocking on the door at 9 p.m., determined to rescue me from what he was sure couldn’t be my true desire. I was furious! It reminds me of people who just can’t understand that you’re fine being single, and no matter what evidence they see to the contrary, insist on doing all they can to change your single status. After all, there’s nothing worse than being single — except for maybe being alone on New Year’s Eve — or so the story goes.
Why is it that some people can’t accept that it’s possible to be single and happy, just like some can’t accept that you prefer to stay home on New Year’s Eve? I don’t need to kiss a bunch of drunken strangers at the stroke of midnight just because a digit changed on the calendar.
It might have a bit to do with the way NYE parties tend to be couples-centric (one way to avoid a slobbery stranger’s kiss at midnight) and, like Valentine’s Day, carry that undercurrent of “Oh crap, another year went by and I’m still single.” Yep, even if you look great and feel great every other day of the year, being single on New Year’s Eve (or Valentine’s Day) is hard to dodge without taking a few shots of friendly fire.
I used to think I was the only New Year’s Eve curmudgeon. But more frequently, I’m hearing people say, “I don’t do New Year’s Eve” — meaning they’ve decided to sit out those parties that promise to deliver the ultimate experience. People are tired of buying into those lofty expectations and then being disappointed when something magical doesn’t happen.
I just don’t want to go there. Why bother with all the effort to “get ready” and then avoid drunken drivers and checkpoints on the way home? I’ll take a quiet evening at home, a nice dinner (maybe with friends and maybe not) and then greet 2015 the morning of January 1 by waking up well-rested with a clear head and happy heart — which is exactly what I wish for you.
Happy New Year!
Copyright © Kim Calvert/2015 Singular Communications, LLC.
Kim Calvert is the editor of Singular magazine and the founder of the SingularCity social networking community. An outspoken champion of people who are living their lives as a “me” instead of a “we,” Kim oversees the creative direction and editorial content of the magazine and online social networking community. She secures contributors and is responsible for maintaining the fun, upbeat, inspirational and often-humorous tone of Singular, a lifestyle guide for successful single living.