What to Do When You’re Single and Waiting for Love

What an empty wall can teach us about waiting for love

Have you ever had a blank wall in your home that seemed to nag at you? It was too empty and felt like it was waiting for something?

My friend Jim Vanderheyden, a photographer, reframes the bare wall perfectly. Don’t treat it as a decorating problem, he says. Treat it as a creative prompt.

Being single, when you’d rather not be, can feel like that empty wall. There’s room in your life for someone, but no one is there yet. Waiting builds its own pressure.

“What if the empty space is an invitation, not proof that something’s missing?”

Jim gave three ways to work with a blank wall. Every one of them applies to waiting for love. Here's what to do when you're single and waiting for love.

Three Suggestions

1. Treat not being in a relationship as a pause.

Jim says a blank wall is a pause, not a problem. Also, the wall doesn’t need to be crowded to be beautiful. One thoughtful piece can say everything.

Being on your own works the same way. It’s a bookmark in a story still being written, not the last page.

This means that not having a partner is no a reason to search frantically for one on the apps. Instead, give your attention to the connections already in front of you. The barista. The neighbor. The friend on the phone. Notice nature on your walk. A few profound moments of presence say more than a hundred forced ones, and they grow the very capacity you’ll need when love arrives.

Try this: notice one meaningful exchange each day this week. A smile, a kind word, a real conversation. Let it count.

2. Build your relationship from a feeling, not a checklist.

Jim doesn’t recommend decorating a room by starting with color or measurements. He suggests starting with the feeling you want the room to hold.

Here’s how that works with love. Set aside the list of traits you believe your partner should have. Instead, ask what you want to feel in a partnership. Things like harmony, laughter, safety, being known, feeling treasured. Let the truth of how your connection will feel lead and let the details sort themselves out from there.

Try this: journal the feelings you most want. Then ask, where do I already feel this in my life, and how do I make room for more?

3. Let the centerpiece be you.

Jim finds the anchor piece first, the one that matters most, and lets the room arrange itself around it.

In your life, you are that piece. 

In your life, you are that piece. Call to your mind and heart what you treasure in yourself and what makes you feel most alive. Let that set the terms. Then a partner doesn't arrive to complete you. They arrive into a life that is full and expressive (yours) and add to what's there. They pull up a chair in a room that already feels like home.

Try this: notice this week where you feel most alive or most at peace. Follow that as often as possible and let those moments enhance your day.

My Journey

At one time, I struggled in a relationship that lasted about four years. I wasn’t alone, but I often felt alone. I wasn’t single, but much of the time I felt single. I was waiting for love inside a partnership that wasn’t offering what I had hoped for.

So I went to work on me.

In this relationship, when something broke my heart, I let it break open instead of managing it away. My partner showed me places I was already tender, long before he ever touched that place. I looked at where I was reactive, and what my reactivity was protecting. What a gift that was. Being with him prompted me to look further back too, at the ancestral and family patterns underneath my own, the ones that had nothing to do with him at all.

There were days I was disappointed in myself. I’m a relationship coach. Shouldn’t I be able to make this connection work? I looked at the root of that belief too, reflected on what was mine to do, and let go of the rest.

We broke up and got back together a few times. When I felt wounded or stumped, I brought issues and questions to my mentors and did the work of healing those places in me, rather than deciding he was the problem.

“None of it was about fixing him. It was about finding what was mine.”

Graduation Time

When that relationship was complete, we went our separate ways. It felt like a graduation. I came out clearer and stronger than I went in, because I’d done the personal work. Hard experiences can prompt us to do great things.

Challenges polish our rough edges, don’t they? They open our hearts, too, if that’s our intention. They bring us home to who we are if that is our deepest wish.

What was left when I left that relationship felt like a blank canvas.

Blank doesn’t mean boring, Jim would say. He says it means open. And open is a beautiful place to begin something new.

Not long after I felt like a blank canvas, I met Eddie. I’d known him as an acquaintance for nine years. He already had plans to move to the city where I live. Call it luck if you want, but I would say it’s more like the perfect orchestration of timing and readiness.

If you’re on your own, or in a struggle with someone, don’t lose heart. 

You’ll transform things faster if you pay attention to your own patterns more than your partner’s. What stands between you and love is rarely about the other person. Learn what the act of waiting has to teach you, and you’ll be ready when someone new walks into your life. 

Let me know if I can help with your love journey. I work with both individuals and couples. You’re welcome to a free First Conversation — twenty unhurried minutes, just the two of us, to talk about where you are and what might help.

Blessings to you, and thanks for reading. Feel free to share this with someone you love.

With Love,

Terri Crosby

In Care of Relationships