S1ngle Ladies: The Media's Misunderstood Powerhouses

Let's talk about single women in media. For decades, the narrative has been clear: women are either on a quest for love, recovering from love, or being punished for not wanting love. It's the rom-com industrial complex, the fairy tale factory, the endless parade of "will they or won't they" plot lines that culminate in a wedding finale. But here's the twist: single women have been here all along, living their lives, thriving in their independence, and yes, occasionally stealing the show. The problem? They've been under appreciated, mischaracterized, or outright ignored in cultural conversations about representation.

It's easy to believe that media only cares about women when they're chasing romance. After all, pop culture has a long history of treating marriage as a woman's ultimate goal. From Jane Austen adaptations to Hallmark Channel marathons, the message has been consistent: love is the prize. And sure, many of us do desire love and partnership—it's human nature. But to suggest that female characters exist solely to be paired off is reductive and wildly inaccurate. Take a closer look at TV history, and you'll see a different story. Single women have often been the backbone of groundbreaking shows. They've been career-driven bosses, unapologetic hedonists, and fiercely loyal friends. Yet their narratives are often sidelined or dismissed as secondary to the romantic arcs happening around them.

Before Sex and the City gave us Samantha Jones—the patron saint of single-and-loving-it—there was Mary Richards from The Mary Tyler Moore Show. Mary wasn't just single; she was thriving in her career as a TV producer in 1970s Minneapolis. Born in 1940 in Roseburg, Minnesota, Mary moved to Minneapolis at the "ancient" age of 30 after leaving her fiancé, Bill. She wasn't portrayed as desperate for a husband or incomplete without one. Instead, she was funny, smart, and relatable—a revelation for her time. Mary Richards was a complex character who balanced strength with vulnerability. She had trouble standing up for herself, which led to realistic storylines about personal growth5. As an associate producer at WJM-TV, Mary kept her ragtag news team afloat, dealing with her gruff but caring boss Lou Grant, the incompetent anchorman Ted Baxter, and the witty writer Murray Slaughter. Her professional life was just as important as her personal one, if not more so. And let's not forget Angela Bower from Who's the Boss?, an advertising executive who flipped gender norms by hiring a male housekeeper (Tony Danza) while raising her son solo. Angela was proof that single motherhood didn't have to be a sob story—it could be empowering. Judith Light brought Angela to life as a smart, witty, and successful character whom audiences were meant to adore. She dated frequently, showing that her commitment to her career didn't diminish her femininity or ability to have a fulfilling personal life. The dynamic between Angela and Tony was revolutionary for its time. Tony, a former Major League Baseball player, took on the role of housekeeper with pride, challenging traditional gender roles. The show explored the question of "who's the boss?" in various ways, with Angela and Tony alternating in positions of authority and guidance.

Despite these trailblazers, single women remain underrepresented on screen—especially when you consider how many women are actually single IRL.

Here's where it gets tricky: many of these characters were framed as "sidekicks" or comic relief rather than leading ladies. Mona Robinson (also from Who's the Boss?), with her unapologetic sexuality and sharp wit, was often treated as a foil to Angela's more buttoned-up persona. But looking back, Mona wasn't just comic relief—she was aspirational. She lived life on her own terms and had zero regrets about it. Similarly, Sandra Clark from "227" wasn't just a flirtatious neighbor—she was a force of nature. Played by the incomparable Jackée Harry, Sandra approached romance with confidence and zest for life. Her dating adventures were less about desperation and more about living life to the fullest, treating each romantic encounter as an opportunity for fun and self-discovery. Sandra was a career woman with ambition, even if her path wasn't always conventional. Her growth throughout the series, from initial antagonism with Mary Jenkins to genuine friendship, showcased her depth beyond her glamorous exterior.

Despite these trailblazers, single women remain underrepresented on screen—especially when you consider how many women are actually single IRL. As of recent studies, nearly half of U.S. adults are unmarried (a number that includes divorced and widowed individuals), yet single women are still largely absent or misrepresented in media. When they do show up, they're often whitewashed or heteronormative depictions that fail to reflect the diversity of real-life experiences. Black women—who statistically have some of the lowest marriage rates—are particularly underrepresented as single characters on TV. And let's not even get started on how rare it is to see queer single women or older single women portrayed with nuance.

In recent years, shows like Insecure have given us complex portrayals of spinsterhood that go beyond clichés. Issa Dee (played by Issa Rae) navigates career struggles and messy relationships while maintaining deep friendships that feel just as central as any romantic subplot. But even now, there's work to be done. Too often, single female characters are either hyper-sexualized or de-sexualized entirely. They're rarely allowed to exist in that rich middle ground where most real-life women reside—sometimes dating casually, sometimes focusing on work or family, sometimes just enjoying their own company. Here's what we need moving forward: more stories about single women who aren't defined by their relationship status. Let them be messy and ambitious and complicated. Let them have friendships that matter just as much (if not more) than romantic relationships. And let them age! Spinsterhood doesn't magically disappear after 40.

stop framing singleness as either a temporary phase or a tragic fate. For many women, it's neither—it's just life and for many a choice.

We should also stop framing singleness as either a temporary phase or a tragic fate. For many women, it's neither—it's just life and for many a choice. And life can be full and vibrant and meaningful whether or not there's a partner involved.

The ext time someone claims that single women aren't represented in media? Remind them of Mary Tyler Moore tossing her hat into the air like she owns Minneapolis—or Sandra Clark owning her confidence and style on "227"—or Angela Bower running an ad agency while navigating single motherhood. These women weren't just characters; they were cultural touchstones who showed us that being single could be glamorous, exciting, and entirely on one's own terms.

Single women have always been here—they've just been waiting for us to notice how fabulous they really are.