There’s something undeniably cinematic about being 35, single, and living with a dog as your volleyball. It’s a story of solitude, survival, and yes, a little sarcasm. Picture me, not stranded on a deserted island but navigating the choppy seas of adulthood in New York City. My FedEx plane crash? Life’s unexpected turns and questionable circumstances that landed me here. My Wilson? A pup named Joey (and before him, Ross Geller). Together, we’ve built a life—a comfortable, predictable, dog hair-covered life. But like Tom Hanks clutching his volleyball, I can’t help but wonder: What happens when the wind changes? When the raft is ready? What’s waiting beyond the safe shores of singledom?
Life on the Island: A Comfortable Castaway
In Cast Away, Tom Hanks’ character, Chuck Noland, adapts to island life after a devastating crash. Much like Chuck, I’ve become a master of making the best out of my circumstances. The crash landing? My twenties didn’t exactly go to plan, and let’s just say the FedEx package marked “husband” must’ve gotten lost in transit. But here I am, building my shelter, finding my food, and sharing my thoughts with someone who doesn’t talk back—Joey, my furry Wilson.
Here’s what life on my island looks like:
Shelter: Just as Chuck turned scraps into a hut, I’ve transformed my shoebox apartment into a haven of cozy contentment. I know where Joey’s bed belongs, where my takeout menus are stashed, and which corner of the couch is mine. It’s not a hut, but it’s home.
Food: I’ve learned how to feed both of us without burning down the kitchen. Joey gets gourmet kibble and I get gourmet delivery. Survival skills? Check.
Silence: Chuck talked to Wilson, his volleyball confidant, about everything: his fears, frustrations, hopes. I talk to Joey, who listens patiently as I debate everything from career moves to whether I should try hot yoga again. We’ve got our own language, one bark and head tilt at a time.
The Fear of Leaving
As much as I’ve made peace with my little island, I can’t ignore the nagging fear of stepping off it. Leaving my comfort zone—whether that’s dating again, taking a leap of faith in a new direction, or just allowing myself to grieve Ross fully—is terrifying. In Cast Away, Chuck loses Wilson, his steadfast companion, and it feels like the end of the world. Losing Ross felt the same way. My world crumbled beneath me, and I’ve been clinging to Joey as my life raft ever since.
But what’s in the raft? Or better yet, who? When I do finally push out into open waters, what’s waiting for me?
When the winds shift and I summon the courage to leave my island, here are three things I hope await me:
1. The Cargo Ship of Connection
In Cast Away, Chuck’s escape raft eventually leads him to a massive cargo ship—a lifeline of connection, civilization, and hope. In my life, that ship could be new friendships, communities, or even a relationship. When I step off my island, I might find people who fill the gaps I didn’t realize existed. Maybe it’s someone who loves dogs as much as I do. Maybe it’s a friend who shares my obsession with Michael Crichton novels. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s someone who’s been adrift too, looking for a fellow castaway.
2. The Treasure Chest of Growth
It's important to take the time to look inwards and find the treasure chest buried in the sand of my deserted island. Inside? All the skills, experiences, and lessons I’ve gathered while surviving solo. Single at 35 isn’t a sentence; it’s a season. I’ve learned resilience, independence, and the art of making a killer cosmo. When I finally leave my comfort zone, I’ll take that treasure with me, ready to invest it in something new—a hobby, a business, or a relationship. The chest isn’t empty; it’s overflowing with possibility.
3. The Glow of the City
As I paddle closer, the city skyline bursts into view, glittering with opportunity and adventure. Those sparkling lights aren’t just a backdrop—they’re a promise of late-night drinks, bustling streets filled with energy, and the thrill of diving into something new. It’s the sound of my friends and I laughing, the smell of the Halal food trucks, and the feeling of endless possibilities humming in the air.
The city lights aren’t just guiding me back—they’re daring me to explore, to take risks, to embrace the chaos and beauty of everything waiting beyond the horizon. It’s not just a homecoming; it’s the beginning of a new chapter, brighter and bolder than before.
Lessons from the Island
So what can we learn from Tom Hanks, Wilson, and my life as a single 35-year-old with a dog?
Adaptability is Everything: Whether you’re stranded on an island or navigating singlehood, the ability to adapt is key. Life doesn’t always deliver what you ordered, but that doesn’t mean you can’t build something beautiful out of what you’ve got.
Companionship Comes in Many Forms: Wilson was just a volleyball, but he kept Chuck sane. Joey may not be able to talk, but his presence is a source of joy, comfort, and unconditional love. Companionship isn’t always about people; sometimes, it’s about the bond you share with a loyal pup/volleyball.
The Raft is Always There: The scariest part of leaving the island isn’t building the raft—it’s deciding to use it. The raft represents courage, hope, and the willingness to move forward. And even if the first attempt fails, there’s always another chance to try again.
Paddling Toward Possibility
In the end, being single at 35 with a dog isn’t so bad. Like Chuck and Wilson, Joey and I have created a life that’s comfortable, quirky, and undeniably ours. But just as Chuck eventually left his island, I know I'll eventually leave mine too. The world beyond the island might be uncertain, it’s full of possibility. And don't worry, I won't let Joey float away...
So here I am, paddle in hand, looking out at the horizon. The winds are changing, the waves are calling, and the raft is ready. Who knows what the tide will bring? Some people may think I look lost, but I finally feel like I've been found.
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