When I say to people that I don’t fancy marriage and kids, they look shocked, as if they have not imagined life any other way. Sometimes they make an aphorism about growing old with cats. Some get concerned that I may be lonely when I reach 70. Now, I don’t want to sound myopic, but I’m 37! Going on a hunt to find a permanent partner now to ward off a hypothetical state of loneliness several decades from now seems as shrewd as taking out a life insurance policy.
 
Besides, I hardly imagine that septuagenarians will have a problem with loneliness in the 2050s. The way technology is going we’ll have all manner of sophisticated social networking apps, location-mapping us wherever we go, linking us to niche social groups that share our interests.

It’s not that I’m against a relationship. Falling in love is one of the greatest human highs there is. But it’s not one of my life goals, as it is for so many. In our modern world, where we champion independence, seek convenience and strive for autonomy, it seems a bit anachronistic to me to put so much emphasis on finding The One.

Yet any single man or woman above 30 is presumed to be looking for that special person to ‘settle down’ with. The phrase itself reveals a lot about how society views single people. Are we all ‘unsettled’ until we meet a life partner? Everyone wants to try to help single people meet a potential partner. People say things like, “She’s had such a terrible year, I do hope she meets someone.” As if meeting someone is the magical panacea to contentment. That’s some expectation a would-be partner to live up to. Or, they say, “He’s met someone now and he’s very happy.” As if there’s nothing else to say. Life mission accomplished – he’s got a partner now so what could possibly go wrong?

Sometimes I feel like a community project. Friends, colleagues, family all have a single friend who they think might, just might, be the answer to my dreams. Occasionally I go wild and go on a date. Whenever I relay my feedback – “He was ok but there wasn’t really a spark.” – they look at me in disbelief. “But you could get to like him,” they insist, as if finding a partner is so imperative that any choice about the matter is a frivolous luxury.
 
I rather like being single. There are wonderful things about being in a relationship. I’ve tried them a few times. I even lasted three years once. I enjoy the physical affection, intimate friendship, someone knowing the narrative arc of my daily life and always having someone to spend a Sunday with. But overall, the things I gain from a relationship are not worth the things I lose. My energy, sense of ambition, enthusiasm to start new projects, my friendships, my sleep, my fitness and my sense of individualism all thrive when I’m flying solo. Not to mention the wardrobe space.

For my book Screw The Fairytale, I set about investigating the alternatives to our fairytale narrative of love. Surely there must be another way to express meaningful love without it being about all about joint friends, joint holidays, joint wash loads and weekend IKEA trips? It didn’t take me long to find that I am not alone in my reluctance to give up independence. Marriage rates are the lowest ever. In the 1950s married couples represented 85 per cent of all UK households. In 2012, it was 67 per cent.
 
The reason is simple. Relationships are no longer a necessity, as they have been throughout history. It is now perfectly possible and socially acceptable to live alone. That’s why many of us do! Nearly three and a half Britons over 45 in fact – a 50 per cent increase since the 1990s. 100 years ago this wasn’t possible. Before domestic conveniences like electricity, heating and Tesco home deliveries, life was too labour-intense. You didn’t just have to make your own bread, you had to grind the flour to make it with.