“Just Find Someone” — Why That’s The Worst Advice After A Divorce

Photo: Representational image

By Ruchi Lamba

How often have you heard it?

“You should start dating again.”

“Just find someone — it’ll help you move on.”

“Don’t waste time, you’re still young.”

Well-meaning words, often offered with love — but more often rooted in discomfort with pain. Society doesn’t like stillness. It fidgets when people grieve. It rushes healing. It praises resilience but misunderstands what true resilience looks like.

After a divorce, especially one that’s emotionally charged or drawn-out, people rush to fix what feels broken. And loneliness, particularly the kind that creeps in during quiet dinners, late-night scrolling, or on birthdays and holidays, can feel unbearable. In those moments, the idea of dating again seems like a life raft. But what many don’t realize is that if you’re not ready, that raft has holes. It won’t carry you. It might even sink you deeper.

There’s a cultural myth that time is running out. That if you don’t start over quickly, you’ll be alone forever. Especially if you’re a woman over 35, the world starts handing out expiration dates like party favors. But starting something new before understanding why the last thing ended isn’t bravery. It’s fear dressed up as action.

You don’t need to date again to prove you’re lovable. You don’t need someone else to validate your healing. You especially don’t need to jump into a relationship to compete with your ex, or to show the world (or yourself) that you’re fine. You are allowed to not be fine for a while. That is not weakness. That is honesty.

One of the most valuable things you can do after a breakup — especially a divorce — is pause. Not to wallow, but to understand. What really happened? Not just who hurt whom, but what patterns were present? What childhood wounds showed up in adult form? What did you learn about your needs, your blind spots, your triggers?

Did you lose your voice in that relationship? Did you settle too quickly? Were you trying to fix someone who didn’t want to be fixed? Or did you keep quiet because conflict scared you more than resentment?

These are not easy questions. They can bring up guilt, shame, and anger. But without answering them, you risk repetition. The person may change, but the story will not.

Real reflection looks like journaling at 2am, therapy appointments you don’t want to go to, and long walks with yourself where you let memories rise and fall without judgment. It’s uncomfortable, but it’s essential. Because if you don’t examine what went wrong (or right), you’ll keep outsourcing your happiness to someone else.

Divorce leaves scars. Even if you were the one who chose to end it, there’s still grief — grief for the life you imagined, for the time you invested, for the version of you that once believed it would last. And beneath that grief is often fear.

Fear of being alone forever.

Fear of trusting someone new.

Fear that maybe you’re the common denominator.

Fear of messing it up again.

These fears don’t disappear because someone else holds your hand. In fact, if left unprocessed, they’ll start shaping your behavior in your next relationship. You’ll become hypervigilant, overly accommodating, or emotionally unavailable. Or all three, depending on the day.

Taking time to sit with your fears and understand their roots is not indulgent — it’s preventative care for your future love life. People who face their fears before dating again bring clarity and calmness into relationships. People who don’t, bring chaos.

Loneliness is hard. It presses against your chest and whispers that you are somehow less without a partner. But loneliness is also incredibly instructive. It tells you where you’ve abandoned yourself. It shows you what you’ve been distracting yourself from. It offers the chance to build a life that feels good on your own — so that the next time you invite someone in, it’s from a place of abundance, not desperation.

Take yourself out for coffee. Redecorate your room just for you. Reconnect with friends you may have drifted from. Discover what lights you up when no one else is around to influence your choices.

One of the most attractive things — truly — is someone who is whole on their own. Who knows how to enjoy life solo. Not because they’ve given up on love, but because they’ve fallen back in love with themselves.

When your friends say “just find someone,” it’s often because they don’t like seeing you in pain. But no one — not even your best friend — has to live in the consequences of your choices. Only you do.

So don’t let anyone rush you. Your healing is not a group project. Yes, accept love and support, but remember that you are the one steering this ship.

A new relationship might ease the sting of loneliness for a while, but it can’t do the work for you. And if you haven’t done the work, chances are high that you’ll attract someone who hasn’t either.

One of the greatest lies we’ve been sold is that life only begins in partnership. That being single is somehow a limbo, a waiting room for something better.

But singlehood — especially post-divorce — can be a powerful season. You get to reintroduce yourself to yourself. You get to dream new dreams, without compromise. You get to set standards, redefine boundaries, and build emotional muscles you didn’t know you had.

Instead of dating, date your life. Travel if you can. Take a class. Pick up that hobby you always said you’d try “when things settle down.” Your life doesn’t need to be on hold until someone enters it.

Healing isn’t linear. Some days you’ll feel confident and whole. Other days, you’ll cry over a song or a scent or a memory you thought you’d packed away.

But at some point — and you’ll feel it in your bones — you’ll be ready. Not because you’re lonely. Not because someone flirted with you. But because you’ll finally feel available. Emotionally. Mentally. Energetically.

You’ll have made peace with your past. You’ll have forgiven what needs to be forgiven. And you’ll approach love not as something to fix you, but as something to add to your already fulfilling life.

(Lamba lives in Southern California)