What It Really Feels Like to Be Single in February (Especially When You Want Love)

February is a short month. Just 28 days. Sometimes 29. But if you’re a single person who desires love, it can feel like 365 days.

It starts subtly as the red displays creep into supermarkets in late January, social media couples apply pressure, and content creators shift from their regular content to love- and Valentine-themed content. Business owners start marketing their “couple packages." And before you know it, your entire timeline looks like it’s sponsored by the devil just to spite you.

There’s also a version of this story where being single in February is empowering. You’re thriving, living your best life, excelling at your career or business. You’re booked. You’re glowing. You don’t care.

This version is also true. 

For Tolu, a hopeful romantic with a PhD in talking stages, the first week in February starts with denial. While we bantered, he mentioned that he doesn’t care about Valentine’s Day. To capture the essence of his response, he said, “It’s overrated.”

Seconds later, he texted, “But I wouldn’t mind having someone to go out and exchange gifts with.”

As the days went by, Tolu bombarded my DM with reels about love, Valentine's packages, couples' goals and outfits he would have gotten for his last talking stage had she not jumped ship to be with someone else. 

That’s the thing about February. You can be secure, self-aware, and thriving and still want someone to think of you when they pass by a giant teddy bear clutching a small heart-shaped pillow. So, for Tolu, February triggered loneliness.

For some, it triggers comparison. When I put out the question on my status, asking people to share what it feels like being single, I got more responses from men, which made it clear there is a loneliness pandemic in town. 

While most of the women seem unbothered, hosting galentines and having the best time of their lives, not losing their minds over a man. 

Emeka, a 30+ man, Judy and Yinka all mentioned that they found themselves comparing themselves to their friends. February can feel heavy if you’re the only single person in your friend group with no prospects. You start to wonder how everyone around you found it easy with love, and all your attempts keep failing. 

You scroll past engagement shoots, surprise proposals, decorated rooms, grand gestures and everything your heart desires but don’t have. Even if you know social media is curated, your brain doesn’t always care. All it does is fuel the voice in your head whispering, 'What about you?'

Honourary mention: There are also those specifically mentored by Patience Ozorkwo herself, who appointed themselves judge and jury of the love court. Their sole aim in February is to compare people’s gifts, analyse gestures, decode whose relationship is falling apart and mock to their heart’s content. These are my favourite types of people. 

During workdays, it’s manageable. You’re busy working, running errands or just existing one way or another. Then, at the end of the day, when the house is quiet, and the group chats slow down, you take a stroll only to see two trench couples (who should be thinking of how to make it out of the trenches, by the way) walking hand-in-hand and feel something tighten in your chest.

Now, don’t get me wrong. Being single doesn’t mean desperate or incomplete. It doesn’t mean unhappy. But it can mean missing intimacy.

Missing having someone to debrief the day with. Missing being held. Missing having plans made for you instead of by you.

“I’m tired of pretending I’m not disappointed,” Gbenga told me. “Every year I say, ‘Maybe next Valentine’s I won’t be alone.’ And then it comes again.”

There’s a specific kind of grief in watching time move while your desire stays unmet. You’re happy for your friends. You show up to the weddings. You comment “my faves!!!” under your partnered friends’ posts. You mean it. But later that night, lying in bed, you wonder: When will it be me?

Then there comes the financial irony. A very strange irony of Valentine’s Day.

Single people save money since there are no gifts to buy (except if there are activities planned around that in the friend group, at church or with family), no fancy dinners to plan, and no overpriced package.

“But that doesn’t feel like a win!” my friend lamented when I shared my opinion with her in the most unserious and unbothered manner. But a win is a win. It doesn’t matter if you are broke and will be home drinking garri. 

The most wholesome response I got was from Gift. “I love February so much. I always host my friends and family; although it's a small group, we eat, drink, play games, exchange gifts, and have a nice time, and sometimes, it spills into a sleepover. I’m single and not really interested in dating per se, but I love love, and as an expressive babe, I extend it to my friends and family.”

Why do I find this wholesome? The craze about romantic expressions of love can be overwhelming. Community is important. If you don’t build and nurture platonic relationships, you will feel very much alone later in life. That’s my belief. 

And for Gbemi, February comes with relief from pressure, expectations, and relationship drama. “As long as I’m not crying over a man cheating on me or making me seem crazy, I think I’m cool. Everyone should have fun.”

Peace expanded on this. I specifically asked for her opinion before writing this article because she’s one of the women who genuinely seems to be thriving as a single woman. To avoid lengthening this article, I will share a screenshot of our chat below.

This is to show that not everyone is suffering in February. 

However, as February 14th passes and the month winds down, the world moves on. The flowers wilt. The posts slow down. The restaurants remove their heart-shaped balloons.

And life feels normal again.

Which is maybe the biggest lesson of all: Being single in February doesn’t mean you’re failing. It doesn’t mean love is late. It doesn’t mean everyone else figured out something you didn’t.

It just means you’re in a season. And seasons change.

So if you’re single this February, feel it fully. The loneliness. The longing. The relief. The eye rolls. The feeling of having a community. The hope. All of it counts.