How being in a relationship is like owning a car

It’s useful to have one, but you’ll do just fine without it.

I live in America where an estimated 76 percent of adults own a car. When I tell people I don’t have a car, I feel a little embarrassed. “Oh, you don’t have a car?” they say, a little surprised. I imagine (correctly or incorrectly) that they’ll think I’m less of an adult because of this. “That’s right, I don’t. I have a driver’s license but have tallied the pros and cons of car ownership and have decided I don’t like driving enough to buy one,” I think but don’t say this.

According to Pew Research Center, about 70 percent of Americans are married or in a committed relationship. This means that approximately 30 percent of people in the country are single, which is close to the percentage of people who are car-less. When I was single, I imagined (correctly or incorrectly) that people thought I was less of an adult too.

Many of us crave close human connection, and we’ve gotten it in our heads that we need to be partnered. But some folks are not set up for it, or they just don’t need it enough to tolerate an intimate partner for life. And that’s OK. Just like it’s OK to not own a car or even know how to drive.

I see a lot of parallels between owning a car and choosing to be married or partnered.

A car, like a spouse or partner, is incredibly useful

A car gives us mobility, and so can being partnered. The pooling of financial and physical resources that often occur in relationships enable individual upward mobility – if we’re lucky, we get access to physical assistance or additional income source from a partner which enables us to advance our careers, move to a bigger house, and improve our socioeconomic status.

A car is useful for meeting our survival needs – it’s helpful for getting us fed (grocery shopping or going to restaurants), getting us to the ER, or getting out of dodge if there’s a war, natural disaster or zombie apocalypse (at least that’s what the movies will have us believe). Similarly, having a partner improves our chances of survival both as a species and individual. For example, it’s useful to have a partner if you want to have and raise a child, or if you fall down the stairs in your old age and need someone to help you get up.

A car provides us with shelter and can even be a second home if we get evicted from our place of residence. Likewise, an intimate relationship can be a place of refuge from the storms of life.

There are many utilitarian advantages to car ownership and being partnered. So, it’s no wonder that there are 298 million registered vehicles in the U.S. today, and the “love relationship” is one of our most pervasive life quests all around the world.

Having someone to witness our lifespan and share memories with can quell the terrors that accompany being human. “At least I’m not hurtling towards the void alone,” we hope. I heard someone refer to his car as “my own little spaceship”. That’s what intimate relationships can feel like – little spaceships that help us move through time with a little more comfort, convenience and ease. Of course, there’s always a 40 percent chance that your relationship will be the Challenger!

Driving, like being in the wrong relationship, can kill you

Approximately 100 people die each day from road accidents. Yes, that metal container –like that selfish, sociopathic, constantly depressed, addicted, vindictive, needy, immature, unfaithful, abusive, or narcissistic partner – can kill you. In the U.S., one in five homicides are committed by the victim’s current or former intimate partner. Throw in nearly 10,000 suicide deaths (roughly one in five suicide deaths) related to relationship distress along with the increased risk of developing terminal illnesses due to prolonged high-conflict, toxic relationships, and it seems that both driving and getting into a relationship could prove deadly.

The wheelless have stronger legs. The partnerless become more resilient.

A University of Berkeley study on obesity found that car owners gain more weight than those who don’t own cars. A study at the University of Illinois found a 99 percent correlation between vehicle use in America and national annual obesity rates. I extrapolate that besides being leaner, the car-less – who use their legs for transport – are also generally fitter, with better cardiovascular health and stronger bones and muscles.

Analogous to this, I suspect that single folks are less complacent than those with partners when it comes to working at their personal development. “All of our unhappiness comes from our inability to be alone,” said philosopher Jean de la Bruyere. This could mean that singles – who by necessity must develop the ability to be alone – might just be a little happier.

I have been married for 16 years and am grateful for my spouse, but I’ve always admired people who fly solo. Before marriage, I was single for a long enough to become well-acquainted with the interior terrain and the ups and downs of solo existence. Looking back now at my single days from a married perspective, I don’t think one way of being is superior to another. They’re just different.

In some ways, single folks are compelled to develop more resilience (the ability to adapt, recover, and grow in the face of adversity, trauma, or significant stress) than their partnered counterparts because they don’t have the luxury of the reliable and consistent support that is available (or that should be available) to those with significant others. A friend who was getting divorced wondered what she would do when filling out medical forms. “I no longer have an emergency contact”, she lamented. “I have lots of friends, but I’m nobody’s priority,” said someone else I know.

When I was unpartnered, I lived from a very specific interior space, I experienced a “me-ness” that gave me a strange sort of inner strength. Within this space, I was more sensitive to the world and in some ways could participate more fully and less self-consciously in it. Like a pedestrian, free from metal and motor, I could move unencumbered. I didn’t have to think about gears, windshield wipers, stoplights, or road courtesy. I could just walk. While single, I was not distracted by the need to be accountable to another person in the way life partners need to be. Because I didn’t have someone to download my thoughts to the end of the day, I had to come up with more creative ways to share my victories or release pent up frustrations and disappointments. Because I didn’t have someone at home to dialogue or argue with, I had to find other ways to entertain myself (like writing or meditation or doing volunteer work). Being alone felt uncomfortable at times and I had to work harder at growing the inner resources required to be my own best friend. “Those who fly solo have the strongest wings” is an apt modern proverb that expresses the power inherent in going against the cultural norms of marriage or romantic partnership.

Maintenance costs

Payments, insurance, fuel, parking, maintenance and repair, depreciation, taxes and fees. In 2026, the average cost of annual car ownership is approximately $11,577 – $956 a month. In a relationship, there are fiduciary costs, which might include marriage counseling fees, but the biggest costs will be your time and attention. To sustain a relationship, both parties need to make compromises – engaging in activities that your partner enjoys but you don’t, enduring the company of stepchildren, in-laws or your partner’s friends that you may not like, and being available and of service to your partner even when they’re ill, physically or psychologically. “For better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, as long as we both shall live,” – that’s what it takes to keep a mate and stay partnered. It’s a lot of work and it only ends when…

Both car and partner break down

The average lifespan of a car is 12 to 16 years. The average lifespan of a human being is 73 years. If you don’t own a car, you won’t have to deal with the frozen gauges, see the smoke or steam rising from the hood, or hear that loud crunch followed by deathly silence (you might be witness to it as a passenger but it won’t hurt in the same way). You’ll be spared that moment – perhaps in the middle of a bustling highway – when your trusty “spaceship” fails you.

If you don’t get partnered, you won’t have to watch the decay of your relationship through separation and divorce, or just the tedium of life. You won’t have to experience the eventual departure and absence of your partner through death.

The poet Alfred, Lord Tennyson wrote “Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all”. Perhaps we can counterbalance this with a quote by Jean Baudrillard which not only captures the postmodern philosophy of driving but also of postmodern love as distraction from the awesome horror of doing this thing called life. “Driving (or being in a relationship) is a spectacular form of amnesia. Everything is to be discovered; everything is to be obliterated.” The relentless forward motion of driving and being in a relationship focuses our attention on the momentum of living (the road ahead) rather than everything that’s already dead (the road behind us).