Everything You Need to Know About Single People and Family Photos

“Oh, wait! She can hold the dog! It will be so cute.” Embarrassment encroached my personal space and I excused myself with a quick bathroom break. I needed a moment to confront the looming emotional breakdown. The tapes in my mind played sarcastic responses that would surely disrupt this wonderful day filled with Holiday goodness and Christmas cheer. So I took a few breaths, looked at myself in the mirror for a visual pep talk, and walked out into the living room to flash the most impressive fake smile I’ve ever worn. With the dog cradled in my arms, of course.

I’ve been the only single person in our family photos for almost six years now. We all know the house is awry with conflict the morning before family photos. Parents are fighting, siblings are pulling each other’s ponytails, and the grandparents are late. What I haven’t heard is the very important narrative of a single person.

It’s a time when we’re faced with all of the unspoken cultural expectations, whether subconscious or realized. Loneliness is inevitable as I watch everyone pair up in their individual family units. It’s a moment when disappointment feels like it throws me to the floor to sit on like a sofa. I’ve worked hard for the confidence I have now. It didn’t come naturally to me. I had to commit decades of work to learn where my worth is found and why my identity is anchored in something bigger than myself. Family photos still get the best of me. They take that confidence by the jugular and force it into a brutal fistfight that looks like Conor McGregor on steroids.

I have our past photos hanging all over my house, and I don’t see myself as idly standing by without a companion. I don’t look distraught, lonely, or humiliated, which tells me that it’s not a problem with the concept, it’s the dynamics. My solution is not to ban all family photos because avoidance is hardly a healthy answer. Plus, what kind of world doesn’t document cheesy Christmas sweaters and a well-decorated mantel? That would be a travesty, and our children need something to make fun of us for. 

Instead, I have a few things to share for families and single people on the subject of family photos.

Don’t suggest holding the dog, or anything else for that matter.

If you want photos taken as a couple, that’s fantastic, and I fully support it. Please don’t force a single person to take them. I’ve never thought to myself, “gosh, I really wish I had a photo of myself by the Christmas tree.” If I love the tree that much, I promise I will tell you I want a photo. I may even want pictures with the dog! But let it be my suggestion, and not someone else’s to supplement my aloneness with the dog. That’s all, moving on.

Don’t overthink how to position them in a group of couples.

If you spend too much time moving the single person around like it’s a game of chess, they’re going to pick up on the fact that they don’t fit. Trust that they have taken enough photos to figure out how and where to stand to make themselves blend in the group. It’s usually by our parents, which is both comforting and a tad belittling. It’s where I’ve been standing [in photos] for a solid 28 years now, I don’t think it’s a new concept to place me there. Should I look for the kid’s table for dinner afterward, too?

Don’t promise me it will be different next year.

And for the love of God, don’t say, “this is my year.” You, too, would cringe if I told you how many times someone has used that phrase to reassure me that I would find my soul mate/ husband/ boyfriend. Plus, it provides little to no guarantee. Unless you’re a prophet or a psychic, in which case, maybe let your theory prove true before sharing. We don’t know it will be different next year, and that pressure doesn’t help anyway. 

I’ve told you a lot about what not to do. Here’s what you can do:

Love us exactly where we are, reassure us that we belong, and check in on us with sincerity.

Vocalize that this photo [and holiday season entirely] is whole with me in it. We’re not missing anyone right now, and we’re not waiting on someone. Remind me that any addition in future years is a bonus, and I’m whole all on my own.

I don’t need reassurance that I will be married by next year. I need reassurance that I belong right here, right now. Love me regardless of my relationship status- just remind me my belonging is not contingent on someone else. 

I also need you to ask me how I’m doing. You don’t have to say all the right things or offer cheerful condolences. Just a basic “how are you?” is perfect. That’s loving me well right here, in the midst of this photo session.