In her late thirties, Connor Hartog’s life changed dramatically in ways she could never have predicted. A 10-year relationship ended, she was stood down from her IT job because of COVID and she found herself living alone for the first time in a decade during lockdown. In an apartment, adrift from colleagues who had been like family, she was close to despair. She left the city, started to rebuild her life and herself, found a new job with a global software company and was able to buy a house in a country town.
Now she says, “I relish the weekends where I don’t have any commitments so I can be on my own. I look forward to thinking, ‘What do I feel like doing today? Do I want to lie on the couch and watch Netflix? Do I want to spend time in the garden? Do I want to catch up with the neighbours and have a drink?’ I don’t have to consult or confirm that it’s okay with anyone else. I can completely make my own decisions and that feels great.”
Almost 15 per cent of the households in New Zealand are single person. Half a century ago, women were financially dependent on men and a spinster was a pitiable creature, some kind of social failure, a person nobody wanted. Since then, there has been a significant
