If you want to be truly happy in life, stay single until you meet someone with at least 3 of these 10 personality traits

I'm writing this from the other side of something I thought might never happen. After spending most of my adult life single—documenting that journey publicly, wrestling with loneliness at 43, questioning if I'd somehow missed the relationship boat entirely—I'm now in a happy relationship. The irony isn't lost on me.

But here's what I want to tell you: everything I learned during those years of being single, everything I discovered about not needing a relationship to be complete—all of it was true. And paradoxically, it's what made this relationship possible.

As I shared in my YouTube video about the fear of loneliness when single:

I explored how society conditions us to believe happiness only comes through relationships. But what I've discovered since then is that the real tragedy isn't being single—it's settling for the wrong person because you're afraid of being alone.

After years of dating, failed relationships, and deep introspection about what actually matters in a partner, I've identified the personality traits that make the difference between a relationship that diminishes you and one that expands you. You don't need all of them—perfection is a myth that keeps us perpetually searching. But if someone has at least three of these traits, you might have found something worth pursuing.

1. They're comfortable with their own solitude

The best relationship I've ever been in is with someone who was perfectly content being single. She wasn't hunting for completion, wasn't desperate to fill a void. She'd built a life she loved—solo travel, personal projects, deep friendships—and I was an addition to that life, not the foundation of it.

People who are comfortable alone bring a different energy to relationships. They're not clinging to you for validation or entertainment. They can give you space without feeling abandoned. They understand that love isn't about merging into one entity but about two whole people choosing to share their completeness.

I spent years thinking I needed to find someone to cure my loneliness. What I actually needed was someone who had already cured their own.

2. They've done their inner work

Everyone has baggage—that's not the issue. The question is whether they're aware of it and actively working with it, or dragging it unconsciously into every interaction.

The person worth waiting for has been to therapy, or found other ways to examine their patterns. They can tell you about their triggers without making you responsible for managing them. They know the difference between their emotional reactions and objective reality.

During my single years, I went deep with Rudá Iandê's teachings about self-love and shadow work. I learned to recognize my patterns of idealization, my tendency to project perfection onto partners, my fear of genuine intimacy. When I finally met someone who had done similar work, our conversations had a different quality—less blame, more curiosity; less projection, more presence.

3. They celebrate your success without feeling diminished

I once dated someone who subtly undermined every achievement. When my business hit a milestone, she'd point out what was still missing. When an article went viral, she'd mention how digital metrics don't really matter. It took me months to realize she wasn't being "realistic"—she was threatened.

The right person lights up when you win. They brag about you to their friends. They push you toward your dreams even when it means time apart or lifestyle changes. Their ego isn't so fragile that your success feels like their failure.

This trait is rarer than you'd think, especially if you're ambitious or unconventional in your pursuits. Most people say they want a successful partner, but what they really want is someone successful enough to be impressive but not so successful that they feel overshadowed.

4. They can apologize without defending

Watch how someone handles being wrong. Do they say "I'm sorry, but..." followed by an explanation of why their behavior was actually justified? Or can they simply say, "I messed up. I'm sorry. How can I make this right?"

The ability to apologize cleanly—without deflection, without turning themselves into the victim, without immediately pointing out your faults too—is a superpower in relationships. It shows emotional maturity, security, and genuine care for repair over being right.

I used to be terrible at this. My apologies came wrapped in explanations, contextualization, subtle suggestions that maybe the other person was actually at fault. It wasn't until I learned to simply own my mistakes that my relationships started having space to breathe.

5. They're curious about who you're becoming, not attached to who you've been

The wrong person meets you and decides who you are. They create a fixed image—"the entrepreneur," "the free spirit," "the intellectual"—and resist any evolution beyond that framework. They'll say things like "you've changed" as an accusation rather than an observation.

The right person is fascinated by your growth. They ask questions about your new interests without feeling threatened. They support your career pivots, your spiritual explorations, your experiments with identity. They're not trying to lock you into a version of yourself that makes them comfortable.

After years of building Ideapod and The Vessel, I went through a period of questioning everything about my entrepreneurial identity. The right partner didn't panic about what this meant for our future. She got curious about what was emerging.

6. They can sit with difficult emotions without trying to fix them

When you're having a hard day, do they immediately jump into solution mode? Do they get uncomfortable with your sadness, your anxiety, your anger, and try to talk you out of it? Or can they simply be present with whatever you're feeling?

The ability to hold space for difficult emotions without trying to fix, minimize, or redirect them is profound. It means they're not using your happiness as a barometer for their own worth. They understand that feelings need to be felt, not solved.

This was one of my biggest lessons from being single—learning to sit with my own difficult emotions instead of immediately seeking distraction or validation. When I found someone who could do the same, it transformed how we navigate challenges together.

7. They maintain their own friendships and interests

Beware the person who makes you their entire world. It feels romantic at first—the intensity, the focus, the way they drop everything for you. But it's unsustainable and ultimately suffocating.

The right person maintains their own ecosystem. They have friends you don't share, hobbies that don't include you, parts of their life that remain distinctly theirs. They miss you when you're apart but don't fall apart. They're building a life alongside you, not around you.

I learned this the hard way in my thirties, when I disappeared into relationships, abandoning friendships and interests for the intoxication of new love. It always ended the same way—with me feeling trapped and them feeling abandoned when I inevitably needed to reclaim my independence.

8. They're interested in repair, not winning

Every couple fights. But watch what they're fighting for. Are they trying to win—to be proven right, to extract an admission of fault, to establish dominance? Or are they fighting for the relationship itself, trying to understand what broke and how to fix it?

The right person argues differently. They can pause mid-fight and say, "Wait, what are we actually trying to solve here?" They're more interested in understanding your perspective than in defending their own. They care more about connection than victory.

9. They've made peace with uncertainty

Life is uncertain. Careers change, health fails, plans collapse. The wrong person needs constant reassurance, detailed five-year plans, promises you can't possibly keep about a future you can't possibly predict.

The right person has made peace with not knowing. They can commit to growing with you without needing a detailed map of where you're growing to. They understand that the only real security comes from trusting your ability to navigate whatever comes, together.

This trait became non-negotiable for me after years of living unconventionally—building businesses, traveling in my converted Land Rover, refusing to follow the standard life script. I needed someone who could embrace uncertainty as an adventure, not a threat.

10. They're kind to people who can do nothing for them

Watch how they treat the waiter, the Grab driver, the elderly person moving slowly through the crosswalk. Do they show patience and kindness, or irritation and dismissal?

Kindness when there's nothing to gain reveals character. It shows they're not performing goodness for rewards but embodying it as a way of being. This is the person who will treat you with compassion when you're at your worst, when you have nothing to offer, when you need care without being able to reciprocate.

The paradox of standards

Here's what I learned during all those years of being single: the higher your standards, the longer you might wait, but the better your chances of finding something real. The fear of loneliness makes us lower our standards, settle for "good enough," convince ourselves that expecting these traits is unrealistic.

But loneliness in a relationship with the wrong person is far worse than loneliness when single. At least when you're alone, you're free to become who you're meant to be.

I'm not saying wait for perfection—that's just another form of avoiding intimacy. But wait for someone who demonstrates at least three of these traits consistently, not just in the honeymoon phase but in the mundane Tuesday moments, in the conflicts, in the challenges.

Because here's the truth I couldn't see when I was desperately afraid of being alone: being single isn't a waiting room for your real life to begin. It's the place where you become the person capable of recognizing and receiving the kind of love worth having.

The relationship I'm in now wouldn't have been possible if I'd settled earlier out of fear. All those years of being single, of doing the inner work, of learning to love my own company—they weren't wasted time. They were preparation.

So if you're single and afraid you're missing out, remember this: you're not behind schedule. You're not broken. You're not too picky. You're just refusing to settle for a relationship that would require you to abandon yourself.

And that refusal? That's not loneliness. That's self-love.