BY PATTY FROESE

S AN ADVENTIST SINGLE, THERE IS nothing I dread more than "the update." You know what I'm talking about, don't you? Where you run into a person you haven't seen in a few years, and in 20 words or less you have to report your life. Getting the update is much easier: Ms. X got married last fall. Mr. Y is getting married in the spring. Ms. Z is expecting a baby in March. Lives can be summed up in a sentence, that is, unless you're single. When you're single, you have to explain.

I feel a sense of obligation during an update. I feel the need to mollify the person by throwing in some jokes. I laugh to fill the awkward space after they ask if I've got a "special guy" in the works. I assure them that I'm surviving just fine on my own and do not need to buy a pit bull for safety's sake. I smooth it over. I've realized that the update isn't actually about me; it's about them. They need to be relieved, and I want them to be at ease. They avoid that feeling of panic that prays "God, don't let that be me!" I represent the fear of being alone.

It makes me wonder . . . As an Adventist single, what am I? Am I a problem? Do I need to be fixed up, hooked up, knot tied, and safely deposited into a couple? Do I belong to a whole section of ministry because I have a little secret? Am I a statistical issue to be solved?

The idea of being single is meshed together with the quest to "find someone." Singles are introduced to each other so that they can become a couple, get married, and no longer be considered solo. Being single is a transitory state, or at least we hope it will be. Being single is the rented apartment before you buy your first condo. It is the hand-me-down furniture before you buy a "real" couch. Even singles don't think about remaining this way indefinitely. Even the most stubborn of us has a secret dream of finding love and security.

So why is the update so difficult? Why do I feel slightly embarrassed when I talk to my newly married friend? Why do I feel that if I don't have a husband to present to the scene, I should at least have a boyfriend? Why do I feel the uncontrollable urge to soften my single status? Why do I feel that I'm worth just a little bit less if I'm not married?

Seeing someone living alone, without the prospect of marriage in the immediate future, is uncomfortable for a lot of people. However, I'm equally uncomfortable. I want to smooth over the awkward moment. I don't want the other person to see when I'm lonely. I don't want to show weakness.

But is being a part of a couple a sign of strength? There certainly is safety in numbers. But it isn't strength that I'm trying to present. It's value. I want to show that I'm worth something. And without a buyer, where is the proof of my worth?

I am an Adventist single. I cook for one. I shop in single portions. I have no one to apologize to if I come home late. I don't need to take anyone else into consideration when I make decisions. I don't belong to a "we." When I evaluate myself, I do not have the buffer of another person. I don't have the look of love in another person's eyes to tell me that I have worth.

I simply look at the bare honest self that stares back from the mirror. I see me, and I must decide if I like what I see. Other people cannot see a couple either. They cannot see the implications of "happiness" in me: She must be happy because she is married. He must be fulfilled with a wife like that. Instead, there is simply me. Are you happy? Are you all right?

It's OK that I'm single. I'm happy with my family, with my friends, with the people who make up my support network. I'm fulfilled moving toward my ambitions. I love to go for a walk on a Sunday morning and buy six eggs and a carton of frozen berries for my weekend French toast breakfast. I look forward to curling up in my big red chair with my laptop computer and a big pot of tea on the floor. I like to walk in the evening. I have time away from my phone and television--time to walk and pray and feel connected with God after a busy day. I like who I am and who I'm becoming. I'm single now, and perhaps I'll be single for a while down the road, but that's OK.

You don't have to worry about me. I'm single, but I'm never alone. God has big plans for me in His own time.

I'm unmarried. I shop for single portions. I'm not part of a united front, and "we" don't have plans for the holidays. Without a buyer, where is the proof of my worth?

I don't need one.

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Patty Froese writes from Toronto, Ontario, Canada.