Editor's note: This is a behind-the-scenes account of how the first-ever Singles Forum came about, from the perspective of staffer — and unhitched gal — Catherine E. Toth.

When we first started tossing around ideas for assembling a readers' panel of Hawai'i singles, I'll admit I didn't know what to expect.

I was challenged to put together a group of articulate, intelligent, unattached singles of all ages and experiences, and get them to talk honestly about their single lives.

Uh, OK.

I had to think about whether this would work.

I was last single nearly four years ago. Best times of my life, I always say (making my live-in boyfriend cringe).

I lived in my own one-bedroom cottage in Kaimuki, surfing every morning and playing guitar at night. Trips to Blockbuster became totally self-indulgent. I never felt so free and liberated.

But there were drawbacks: No dates to weddings. No one to cuddle with during a movie. No one to kiss at midnight on New Year's. (OK, no one I wanted to kiss.)

Would I have wanted to talk about it, to share the ups and downs of single living? And with strangers?

I wasn't sure. And honestly, I didn't know if anyone would do it, either. Until the morning after we ran our first notice seeking singles interested in speaking out.

I got dozens — dozens! — of e-mails and phone calls on that day alone. I was overwhelmed. (And so were the folks sitting around me.)

Many of the callers weren't as interested in talking about being single as they were in meeting other singles.

"So, will there be other singles at this meeting?" one responder asked.

"Uh, yes," I replied. "But you know, this isn't a dating club."

"Yeah, but if we meet someone at the meeting, that's OK, right?"

"Um, well, uh ... "

"I'll be there!"

As our first gathering approached, on Jan. 11, I went into panic mode. Would those who came take this seriously? Would they have interesting things to say? Would they even show up?

That afternoon I took my lunch break at the gym. I needed to work out all the pent-up anxiety that had been building for two weeks.

As I sweated on the elliptical, I rationalized that I might be freaking out for no reason. I was single-and-loving-it once, with no burning need to find a boyfriend — particularly at a discussion group. Everyone couldn't plan to fish for love at this meeting, right?

I exhaled deeply and hoped for the best.

What I got was even better than I anticipated. More than a dozen attended our first meeting at The Advertiser.

Though timid at first, the singles opened up after a few introductions — and slices of pizza — and shared their thoughts.

"Would I do it again? I've said no three times already," said Gayle Nakama, a 54-year-old paralegal who's been divorced three times. "I would — only if he accepted me for who I am."

There were single parents and widows. Many had never wed and some had just broken up.

Some had just graduated from college; others happily retired.

At some point the discussion turned to the perception — or misconception — of singles.

Chad Lovell, a 32-year-old account executive at Communications Pacific, referred to an episode of "Sex and the City," in which Carrie Bradshaw registers herself at Manolo Blahnik in recognition of her just-announced marriage to herself. (Surprising how many of the forum guys had seen this episode.)

"There are celebrations for being married," Lovell said, "but we don't celebrate being single."

I thought about that when I got home that night.

He's right. We don't "celebrate" being single. Most times we sympathize with the poor single friend who arrives dateless to the party.

But singles don't wallow in self-pity, as our forum proved. Most folks are content and happy. Sure, they wouldn't mind a dinner partner, even a spouse someday. But life doesn't stop because they're unattached.

Kirk Hashimoto, 39, loves to golf. Crystal Shaw, 63, paints and swims. Brandon Suyeoka, 28, surfs whenever he wants.

They aren't complaining about all their "free" time.

"I enjoy being single," Hashimoto said. "I've got no issues."

That's what I like to hear.

Reach Catherine E. Toth at ctoth@honoluluadvertiser.com.