Fashion

Tiny Love Stories: ‘Destined for Singlehood’

Visits: 18

Modern Love in miniature, featuring reader-submitted stories of no more than 100 words.

When my friend Nancy brought four aspiring writers together, she said we needed a name. “Every successful writers’ group has one,” she insisted. But we hadn’t a single good idea. So, namelessly, we met each month, Nancy watching the clock, keeping us on point, giving tough but incisive comments. We thrived — until esophageal cancer stole her just one year later. We adjourned, too heartbroken to meet, then continued, too bonded to stop. Nancy would no doubt roll her eyes as we now go overtime, making comments that are overly kind. But I think she’d like our name: Nancy’s Group. Jill Lipton

Our first in-person meeting. I’m in the middle. Christine is on my left and Victoria is on my right.

Anxiety has been a lifelong companion. When my new boyfriend booked us a trip to Santa Barbara, I worried he would murder me on the beach. When we bought our first house, I worried it would catch fire while we slept. And when he pulled out a ring after years together, I worried: “Is he the one?” But looking up at his face, I felt calm for perhaps the first time in my life. As we approach our fifth wedding anniversary, my anxiety is still present. But not once have I questioned saying, “Yes, I’ll marry you.” Kylan Coats

At a concert at the Hollywood Bowl. My husband is on the left.

Living in a small Himalayan village, my mother, who never went to school, made sure I got an education. She despised what she saw in local offices: men sitting in chairs barking at women to make them tea. She said without an education, I could end up serving tea for “lazy men like these.” I finished high school, learned six languages, graduated from Berkeley and have worked at Google for a decade now. My mother doesn’t know exactly what I do at work, but she is glad to know that I don’t make tea for anyone (except, occasionally, for her). — Sonam Thunden

Visiting my mother in 2022 and drinking the Tibetan butter tea that I made for us.

This month, the month of my 25th birthday, my fears about life and passing time have been at the top of my mind. More than anything, I worry about missing out on romance: Will I be permanently stunted, destined for singlehood for the next 25 years? On a recent cold night, I felt my fears melt as I sat and laughed with my roommates. With them, I know I am loved: in hugely dramatic speeches in bars; in small favors; in quiet mornings, scrolling on our phones, our knees touching beneath covers. Caleigh Flegg

Our 2022 roommate Christmas card photo. From left to right: Maggie, Abby, Meg and me.

See more Tiny Love Stories at nytimes.com/modernlove. Submit yours at nytimes.com/tinylovestories.

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