I'm not interested in serial dating; I'd honestly rather be

“I’m not interested in serial dating; I’d honestly rather be single.” Thus spoke Tamsin Egerton, and though her words seem simple, they ring with the clear tone of ancient wisdom—the wisdom of self-sufficiency, of integrity, and of the soul that knows its worth. For there are many who wander from heart to heart, seeking warmth in passing faces, trying to fill the emptiness within through the touch of others. Yet Egerton’s words stand like a pillar in the storm, reminding us that solitude, when born of truth, is not loneliness—it is strength. To prefer one’s own company over hollow companionship is an act of quiet heroism, the kind that requires more courage than conquest.

In the days of the ancients, the philosophers of Greece spoke often of wholeness—that a soul must be complete in itself before it joins with another. Plato told the tale of souls divided, each half searching for its other, but the wise among the philosophers added: “Seek not your other half until you have learned to walk as a whole.” For love is not a remedy for emptiness; it is the meeting of fullness with fullness. To love rightly, one must first be at peace with solitude. Egerton’s rejection of serial affection echoes this timeless teaching: that love born of need fades quickly, but love born of freedom endures.

The life of Queen Elizabeth I offers a mirror to this truth. Surrounded by suitors, courted by princes and kings, she chose the path of sovereignty, declaring herself married to her kingdom. Though her heart may have known longing, her spirit chose independence, and in doing so, she carved her name into the very stone of history. Hers was not a loveless life, but a life devoted to purpose, vision, and mastery of self. So too, Egerton’s words speak of the same quiet sovereignty—the choice to remain whole rather than to lose oneself in the comfort of constant attachment.

To be “not interested in serial dating” is, in essence, to reject distraction. The world tempts us to fill every silence, to avoid the stillness in which our truest thoughts emerge. Many rush from one embrace to another, mistaking motion for meaning. Yet the one who pauses, who chooses solitude over illusion, walks a deeper path. They know that time spent in stillness is not wasted—it is time spent building the foundation of one’s being. Being single, in this light, is not an absence, but a sacred presence—a time of preparation, reflection, and renewal.

There is a deeper courage in solitude than in any crowd. The person who dares to be alone faces themselves fully—their doubts, desires, and hidden hopes. In that quiet confrontation, they forge clarity. They learn who they are and what they truly seek. Such a person, when they finally meet another, does not grasp or cling; they share from abundance, not hunger. Egerton’s words thus teach that self-possession is not coldness—it is the seedbed of real love. For only those who know themselves can truly give themselves.

In the rhythm of her words lies the discipline of discernment. She does not condemn love, but honors it too deeply to counterfeit it. Better, she says, to stand alone in truth than to walk together in falsehood. And this principle extends beyond romance—it speaks to all relationships, all pursuits. Whether in friendship, work, or faith, to choose quality over quantity, sincerity over appearance, is the mark of one who walks the noble road.

Therefore, let us take this lesson to heart: cherish your solitude, for it is the mirror of your soul. Do not fear the seasons when love is absent; use them to grow in wisdom, courage, and peace. Resist the urge to fill emptiness with noise—let stillness teach you. When love does come, let it meet not a hollow vessel, but a heart already brimming with life. Do not chase connection; become it. And if you must stand alone, do so with pride, for solitude shared with integrity is richer than company built on illusion.

So remember the voice of Tamsin Egerton: to be single by choice is not to lack love, but to honor it—to wait until it can be real, whole, and enduring. For the one who can walk alone in dignity will one day walk with another in strength. And that, dear listener, is the way of those who are not swayed by fleeting affection, but who live according to the eternal rhythm of truth.