8 traits of men who are better off staying single, according to psychology

Some people thrive in partnership. Others truly flourish on their own—at least for a season.

I’ve seen this play out in friends, clients, and, frankly, in myself during certain chapters.

As someone who spent years analyzing patterns as a financial analyst, I can’t help noticing the decision-making behind relationships too:

What’s the real cost of coupling up before you’re equipped for it?

What’s the opportunity cost of staying single until you’ve done some inner work?

If a man recognizes himself in several of the traits below, choosing singlehood for now isn’t a failure—it’s a smart, compassionate strategy for everyone involved.

Let’s dive in.

1. He has an avoidant attachment style

Do closeness and commitment feel like a trap?

If the answer is yes, that’s a classic sign of avoidant attachment.

Avoidant men tend to prize independence, downplay the value of intimacy, and feel smothered by the perfectly normal demands of a relationship.

They might disappear after a great date, get prickly when someone texts “too much,” or insist on rigid routines that leave little room for connection.

Here’s the rub: a partner will naturally interpret that distance as disinterest or rejection.

That creates a push–pull dynamic—she seeks closeness, he retreats—that burns out even the most patient relationship.

There’s nothing “wrong” with wanting autonomy.

But until he’s ready to practice small acts of vulnerability (naming feelings, sharing needs, tolerating closeness without bolting), he’s likely to keep hurting people who want more.

Staying single gives him space to build emotional muscles without leaving a trail of confusion behind.

2. His life is built around a consuming mission

Some seasons demand monastic focus: launching a company, training for a world-class goal, caring for a family member, rebuilding after a major setback.

In my analyst days, I’d work through earnings season with laser focus—coffee, spreadsheets, silence.

Honestly?

A relationship would have felt like a second job I didn’t have the bandwidth to do well.

If a man’s calendar is already spoken for—late nights, travel, weekend sprints—he may not have the emotional availability a healthy partnership needs.

That’s not a moral failing. It’s math. Time and attention are finite.

He can still date, be kind, and communicate clearly.

But until he can offer consistent presence (not just grand gestures squeezed between flights), he’ll serve everyone better by staying single—or at least by being upfront that he’s not relationship-ready right now.

3. He’s emotionally illiterate (for now)

A lot of good men were never taught how to name their internal weather.

If asked, “What are you feeling?” they default to “I’m fine” or “I don’t know.” In psychology circles, we call this alexithymia—difficulty identifying and describing emotions.

In relationships, emotional illiteracy shows up as shutdowns during conflict, blank stares during heartfelt moments, or misreading a partner’s cues entirely.

It’s not malice; it’s a missing skill set.

The good news? Feelings are learnable. He can start simple: daily check-ins (mad, sad, glad, scared, ashamed), journaling after tough moments, and practicing statements like “I feel overwhelmed and need ten minutes.”

But until he’s willing to build that vocabulary, partners will feel lonely next to him.

Singlehood gives him room to practice without making someone else pay tuition for his emotional education.

4. He truly prefers solitude

Some people are energized by dinner parties and shared calendars.

Others come alive in silence. If a man needs long stretches of alone time to feel like himself, forcing a traditional, high-contact partnership can be miserable for both people.

As Susan Cain put it in her TED talk, “Solitude matters, and for some people it is the air that they breathe.”

If that resonates, it’s a clue. A partner who craves daily debriefs, constant togetherness, or spontaneous plans will read his solitude as withdrawal.

Could he build a relationship that honors solitude? Absolutely—especially with someone similarly wired.

But many men default to what they think a relationship “should” look like and then feel trapped.

Choosing singlehood (or at least very intentionally designed relationships) lets him protect the quiet he needs without disappointing someone who needs more touchpoints.

5. He’s high in antagonism (low agreeableness)

Personality research consistently shows that agreeableness—traits like warmth, empathy, and cooperativeness—makes relationships easier.

Men who score low here often lean competitive over collaborative, blunt over kind, and right over connected.

They may roll their eyes at “soft skills,” but soft doesn’t mean weak; it means relational.

Low-agreeableness men can be terrific in negotiations, crisis response, and situations that reward straight talk.

But at home, that same edge can feel like walking into a stiff wind.

Small frictions escalate.

Apologies feel scarce.

Compromise feels like a loss.

If he’s not actively practicing empathy, curiosity, and repair, he’ll turn everyday life into a scoreboard.

That’s exhausting for a partner and unsatisfying for him. Better to do reps alone—read, coach, therapy, men’s groups—before inviting someone into the arena.

6. He’s chaos-prone (low conscientiousness)

Let’s talk logistics. Living with someone means shared bills, laundry, dishes, calendars, and future planning.

If a man chronically loses his wallet, pays late fees like a subscription, or keeps a home that looks like a gear explosion—he’s signaling low conscientiousness.

As a former numbers nerd, I’ve seen how tiny systems reduce friction: automatic transfers, a Sunday reset, a two-minute tidy habit.

Without them, cohabiting becomes a series of avoidable arguments. “Did you pay the electricity?” is not a sexy question, but it’s a necessary one.

Staying single until he builds basic scaffolding—budget, routines, a workable home—spares both people resentment.

He’ll also feel better about himself. Order isn’t about perfection; it’s about not making love compete with preventable chaos.

7. He’s wired for novelty and non-exclusivity

Psychologically, people vary in sociosexual orientation—comfort with casual sex and desire for variety.

Some men are genuinely happiest exploring, flirting, and keeping things light.

There’s nothing wrong with that.

The issue arises when he wants the benefits of a monogamous relationship while resenting the boundaries that come with it.

If he consistently chases the high of the new (the dopamine pop of the first kiss, the thrill of being wanted) and deflates when routines set in, commitment will feel like an endurance test.

He can explore ethical non-monogamy or stay single with honesty and care.

But if he keeps promising exclusivity and then “accidentally” violating it, singlehood is the kinder, more ethical route.

8. His conflict style harms more than it heals

We all have tells in conflict—flight, fight, fix, freeze.

But some behaviors are so corrosive that they predict relationship failure.

As noted by relationship researcher John Gottman, “Contempt is the single greatest predictor of divorce.” Think eye-rolling, sarcasm, name-calling, moral superiority—the “I’m above you” stance.

If a man defaults to contempt, stonewalling (shutting down), or defensiveness under stress, he’ll keep turning solvable problems into character assassinations.

He might not even realize he’s doing it; contempt can sound like jokes, and stonewalling can look like “needing space.”

These are fixable with practice: time-outs that don’t feel like abandonment, repair attempts (“I see your point”), soft startups (“When X happens, I feel Y and need Z”), and, yes, therapy.

But until he’s motivated to change, staying single protects others from avoidable harm—and gives him room to rewire his responses.

Final thoughts

If you recognized yourself—or a man you care about—in a few of these traits, take a breath.

None of this makes anyone unlovable.

It simply suggests that being single for now might be the wiser, kinder path.

A few questions I like to ask clients (and myself) when deciding:

• Am I prepared to show up consistently, even when it’s inconvenient?

• Do I have the emotional vocabulary to talk about what I feel without blaming?

• Can I repair after conflict, or do I punish and withdraw?

• Do my daily habits make a partner’s life easier—or harder?

If your honest answers point to “not yet,” congratulations.

You’ve just saved two people a lot of pain. Invest the time to build the skills you’re missing.

Practice with friends. Read. Journal. Join a group. Go to therapy if you can. I often think about this on long trail runs: growth loves repetition more than intensity.

When you’re ready, partnership won’t feel like performing a role you never auditioned for.

It’ll feel like adding a good thing to a good life. Until then, singlehood isn’t a holding pattern.

It’s a legitimate, healthy choice—one that honors you and anyone who might have otherwise been caught in your crosswinds.