f you’re a single person of a certain age in a Pakistani household, you already know the script. It begins with relatives who ask at every family gathering whether there’s any “news”. It moves to the aunties coming over for tea with a larka or a larki in mind — almost always a doctor or an engineer or someone who runs “khud ka (their own) business”. They usually leave you with far more questions than answers and with even more doubts than you had before they visited.
The third degree treatment gets worse during wedding season, when everyone feels the need to ‘joke’ about your lack of a plus one.
At some point, even if just for a fleeting moment, you’re forced to ask yourself: is there really something wrong with me?
Left to fester, that question could spiral into something darker — a gradual erosion of self-worth and dignity that, in too many cases, starts messing with a person’s mental health. And a disturbed mind, pressured by a culture that treats marriage as a deadline rather than a decision, is far more likely to rush. To settle. To say yes to something that should have been a clear no. The repercussions of that yes can last a lifetime.
A Columbia University-trained clinical psychologist who spent years in the therapy room listening to the emotional wreckage that society’s approach to marriage leaves behind, Moonis isn’t simply trying to help single people find better partners. She’s trying to change the system that routinely pressures them into treating one of the biggest decisions of their lives as though it were a race against time.
Originally from Pakistan and now living in Singapore, Moonis is the founder and CEO of Linkked for Life, a psychology-led, invitation-only relationship service. She is also a former consulting psychologist at Meta, where she learned, from the inside, how the platforms we blame for modern loneliness are designed to keep us searching rather than to help us find.
Moonis sees single people not as a problem to be fixed (usually up with someone), but as complete individuals deserving the space, protection and readiness to make one of the biggest decisions of their lives on their terms — not against a clock.
Single people are subjected to pressure and stigma, with single-shaming being a big issue. So, people need to take a hard look at themselves and ask what role they’re playing in the life of a single person, she adds.
Moonis tells me about a woman in her 30s, worn down by the pressure to find someone. Everyone wanted to know how long she planned to keep at it, saying things like “just give someone a chance”, “you’re too picky”, “you have to put yourself out there”. But if she did give someone a chance, and it went badly, those same voices could turn on her: “why didn’t you have better judgement?” or “why didn’t you stay longer?”
There’s simply no winning for her or someone like her.
“But who is putting her in that place? We unintentionally are saying things — from the media to our own family environments — that create the vulnerabilities that can then get exploited.”
Confronting those vulnerabilities head-on is the first pillar of Linkked for Life and the Single Safety Movement, as Moonis calls it. It’s a preventative model that forms the basis for a healthy process to find a partner.
The second pillar is the “high-touch” relationship service: a private, invitation-only community where every member is rigorously screened and every introduction is personally facilitated, with structured follow-ups to make sure every single person gets the clarity, support and closure they deserve.
She’s bringing her movement and service to Karachi in December where she will host two invitation-only sessions, kept deliberately small and exclusive at 25 to 30 people for an intimate setting: Between Two Worlds for single professionals in their 20s and early 30s, and Smart People, Blind Spots for those in their 30s and 40s. She’ll also mark Single Safety Day on December 11, ahead of wedding season, as a first taste of Linkked for Life.
