She was glowing. Not in that dewy, dermaplaned, Fashion‑Week‑facial kind of way (though let’s be honest, she had that too). No—this was something deeper. The kind of radiance that comes when you’ve stopped negotiating your own joy. When I asked what had her floating three inches above the chaos of backstage, she smiled and said, “I’m separating.”
And there it was. Not devastation, not drama—just a quiet, almost cinematic reclaiming. In that moment, I realized: this isn’t a breakdown. This is a breakthrough. Which leads us to the question on everyone's lips (and now, in your inbox): Is single the new happy?
We’ve seen this plot before—except the ending is changing. The once-feared territory of singlehood is no longer shorthand for sadness. For the KAPHILL woman—curated, intentional, modern—it’s becoming synonymous with power, autonomy, and dare I say it… bliss.
Let’s be clear: committed partnership still has its poetry. There is beauty in shared rituals, in legacy-building, in witnessing each other. But we’ve entered a new era where women are no longer willing to barter their peace for a plus-one. They’re not waiting for a relationship to give them permission to live well—they’re living exquisitely on their own terms.
Just ask Tracee Ellis Ross, the spiritual sister of every woman who’s ever booked a solo table for one and ordered champagne unapologetically. Her musings on single life are not sanitized—she speaks of grief, of longing, of what it means to hold space for both desire and delight. But she also offers a vision of womanhood that is full, radiant, and richly self-authored. She is proof that joy and solitude are not mutually exclusive—they're often co-conspirators.
Even on screen, the cultural shift is showing up in our heroines. In the series finale of And Just Like That…, Carrie Bradshaw and Aidan Shaw part ways not with fireworks, but with mutual quiet clarity—Carrie not “100 percent” invested, Aidan still wounded by residual trust issues. She retreats fully into her townhouse—less cold apartment, more unyielding sanctuary—and writes a new epilogue for her novel: “The woman realized she was not alone — she was on her own.” It’s not an ending. It’s a declaration.
This is not about glamorizing isolation. It’s about rewriting the emotional hierarchy. For decades, culture handed us a script: single equals waiting room, marriage equals destination. But today’s woman? She’s not waiting. She’s renovating the room.
She’s building businesses, planning solo sabbaticals, investing in skincare as spiritual practice, and saying yes—to herself. And when loneliness creeps in (as it does, partnered or not), she meets it with grace, not shame. Because she understands that being alone is not the same as being unfinished.
Here’s what’s different now: women are no longer measuring success by whether they’re chosen. They’re choosing themselves. And whether they’re single by circumstance, by heartbreak, or by glorious design, they are discovering that there is joy—real, layered, delicious joy—in the quiet autonomy of their own company.
At KAPHILL, we celebrate all forms of joy: the joy of loving someone deeply, and the joy of loving yourself enough to walk away. We believe a well-lived life has room for partnership and independence, for devotion and detachment. And above all, we believe that happiness is no longer a relationship status—it’s a lifestyle choice.
So, is single the new happy?
Maybe. Or maybe the new happy is having the agency to decide what joy looks like for you—this year, this season, this afternoon. Whether you’re walking into love or walking toward yourself, may you do it with intention, dressed in something that makes you feel like the main character. Because you are.
xo,
Krystal Phillips